


Searching for Dawn

by cindale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-09
Updated: 2005-10-08
Packaged: 2018-10-27 10:17:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 67,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cindale/pseuds/cindale
Summary: Harry Potter finally killed Lord Voldemort, but did the end justify the means? In this post-Hogwarts story Harry and his friends encounter new adventures, old enemies, and all the changes that come with adulthood. Plenty of romance, humor, angst, and red tights???





	1. Prodigal

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

He stared into the face that haunted his dreams. That face, more snakelike than human, with red eyes that glowed eerily against the pale skin. The mouth was curled up in laughter, even as the Dark Lord knew his death was imminent.

“Harry Potter,” said Lord Voldemort, “I will never be truly dead as long as you live.”

“Liar!” yelled Harry, raising his wand to cast the final curse. The killing curse.

Voldemort laughed, an inhuman laugh that made Harry’s stomach lurch. “You used dark magic to bind me. Now you’re ready to kill me in my helplessness, just to avenge the death of your pitiful parents. Anger, hatred, dark magic – you have become me in order to destroy me.”

Harry hesitated, then thought, “No! I can’t let him get to me!” Even though he knew it sounded silly and dramatic, he said, “I’m going to rid the world of you for the good of everyone.”

“Yes, but at the cost of your soul, Harry Potter!” said the Dark Lord, laughing again.

The laughter only strengthened Harry’s resolve. He raised his wand. “Avada Kedavra!”

*****************************************************************************************************

Fourteen months later…

He was running down a dark street, the pounding footsteps behind him getting closer. He had to get away from them; he was terrified of being caught. He ducked into an alley, but they followed. He felt the panic in his stomach as he faced a dead end…

Harry awoke with a start, panting and drenched in sweat. He knew what the dream meant. “Time to go,” he said aloud.

The young wizard got up slowly from the creaky bed, his hangover headache just beginning to throb. He threw his wand, his clothes, and the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels into his duffle bag. He looked around the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything and noticed his glasses sitting on the sink. He smiled grimly to himself – he’d thought everything was blurry because of the hangover.

The motel desk clerk looked at Harry strangely when he asked to check out at 3 AM, but Harry just gave him a fifty dollar bill and said, “Keep the change.” He knew the Muggle clerk would understand better when the Aurors showed up in a few hours. Harry had heard rumors that a bunch of weirdos with British accents were looking for him. He was sure they were dressing like Muggles, but he knew from experience that most wizards had trouble blending into the non-magic world.

Harry threw the duffel bag in the back of his car and jumped over the door into the driver’s seat. He flipped a coin to determine which direction to travel and headed south.

He frowned as he looked at the coin again. It was a Knut. He thought he had converted all his wizard money to American dollars at the Gringotts branch in New York City. He was down to about two hundred dollars, and his Gringotts vault in London was empty. Not that he could get to it anyway – he was sure the Ministry of Magic was watching it closely. Maybe, if he got desperate enough, he could sell the Knut as a rare coin to some unsuspecting Muggle. He knew that was probably breaking a few laws since wizards were not supposed to take advantage of non-magic folk in any way, but as he was “wanted” anyway, what did it matter?

His car sliced through the oppressive darkness. His car! He could sell the car and buy a less expensive one. He felt a twinge of sadness. The brand new Ford Mustang convertible was the first car he had ever owned, and he was really enjoying it. Of course, if he had settled for something less than a fully loaded sports car, he wouldn’t be running out of money now.

As the eastern horizon began to lighten, Harry saw the sign, “Welcome to Florida.” He thought of the beach. Since he had never been near an ocean, he thought of pictures he had seen on television and in books. He remembered his friends, Ron and Hermione, talking about their trips to the beach with their families but quickly shoved those thoughts aside; they were too painful.

He continued deeper into Florida and thought more and more about the beauty of the beach. He suddenly whipped the car to the left, heading east, toward the ocean.

*****************************************************************************************************

Remus Lupin strode quickly to Professor Dumbledore’s office. He thought about how quiet it was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during summer holidays. Remus was a teacher at Hogwarts but had been searching for Harry since end of term. The Ministry of Magic was officially looking for Harry, and Remus had aided them during the previous summer, but the Ministry had unofficially given up. Harry seemed to be gone without a trace.

Harry had suddenly disappeared after he killed Lord Voldemort fourteen months before, at the end of his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. He hadn’t finished the term nor taken his final exams, known as N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests). Remus sighed. Harry was the most talented student he had ever had in his four years as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He also thought of Harry as a close friend, but was completely puzzled by the disappearance.

Not that Harry had led an easy life. His parents, James and Lily, had been murdered by the evil Lord Voldemort when he was only a year old. (Oddly, Voldemort had been unable to kill Harry and had vanished for thirteen years.) Harry had been forced to live with his aunt and uncle, who hated anything to do with magic, including Harry. When Harry entered the wizarding world at age eleven, it had been as a celebrity – he was known as “The Boy Who Lived” since he had survived the Dark Lord’s curse as a baby. Remus knew Harry had hated the spotlight and longed to be a normal kid, but his fame and continued encounters with Voldemort prevented that. Harry had not only faced the Dark Lord several times during his teen years, he had also witnessed many deaths, including his godfather’s.

Remus winced as he thought of Sirius. Fate had been so unfair to him. Sirius had spent eleven years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. When he finally escaped, he had been forced to hide from the Ministry of Magic until he was killed. After his death, Remus and Harry had been able to share in each other’s grief. 

Remus had never had children but thought he couldn’t have loved a son more than Harry. Then, as Harry’s seventh year at Hogwarts began, he had slowly withdrawn from all of his friends, including Remus. He had become pale, thin, and tired; it appeared he wasn’t eating or sleeping properly. Remus had asked Ron Weasley, Harry’s best friend, if he knew what was wrong with Harry.

“Now that you mention it, he has looked at bit peaked lately. Maybe he’s just worried about You-Know-Who.” Ron refused to say “Voldemort.”

Remus countered, “Yes, but I asked him about it yesterday, and he almost bit my head off. Has he been cranky around you and Hermione?”

Ron only shrugged. Remus searched his face. Although it wasn’t as obvious, Remus noticed some of the same signs of weariness in Ron’s face. He also noticed a closed look in Ron’s eyes, as if he had something to hide. Remus sighed. Since Harry’s grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts remained excellent, and he was his teacher and not his father…

“Okay,” he told Ron, “just please promise me you’ll let me know if he needs my help.”

Ron had only nodded slightly and walked away. Remus wished now he had pushed harder, had found out what was going on…

He was jolted back to the present by the realization that he had passed the secret entrance to Professor Dumbledore’s office. He retraced his steps, mumbled, “Canary Custard,” and entered. Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts Headmaster, looked old and tired, but there was a light of hope in his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time Remus had seen him. Although Dumbledore would never tell his age, it was assumed to be 150 years at least.

“Thanks for coming, Remus. Sit down.”

Remus settled himself in a squashy armchair and looked expectantly at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore didn’t waste words. “Have you made any progress in your search?”

“Only if you like chasing wild geese,” said Remus bitterly. “He could be anywhere in the world – it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack.”

Dumbledore smiled slightly. “I think that’s enough Muggle clichés for one day, Remus.”

Remus managed a small laugh. “Sorry, but the last few weeks I’ve been looking in the Muggle world, and I think they’re starting to rub off on me.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” said Dumbledore. “Yesterday I heard some interesting information from a contact within the Ministry. Have you heard of the Cloaked Vigilante in the United States?”

“A little,” said Remus, wondering what this had to do with Harry. “Even the Muggles here in Britain seem to think he’s a great hero. But why is the British Ministry interested?”

“The British Ministry is working with the American Ministry of Magic because in the vast majority of incidents, the Muggles reported that the Vigilante had a British accent.”

“Ah,” replied Remus. “So they think it’s a Brit using magic on the American Muggle criminals.”

“Yes,” said Dumbledore, looking at Remus very intently through his half-moon spectacles, “but my contact at the Ministry said something yesterday which caught my attention. Although they have never been able to even see, much less apprehend, the Cloaked Vigilante, in a few cases something resembling a deer has been seen fleeing the scene.”

A deer … realization slowly dawned on Remus’ face.

Dumbledore smiled. “Now you see why I owled you. I think your haystack just got a lot smaller.”

*****************************************************************************************************

Harry stared into the face that haunted his dreams. That face, more snakelike than human, with red eyes that glowed eerily against the pale skin. The voice said, “Harry Potter, I will never be truly dead as long as you live!”

As the green light flashed around him, other faces floated by, speaking to him.

Hermione’s face, saying, “Harry, are you sure we should be researching dark magic? It seems wrong to fight evil with evil.”

Ron’s face, saying, “Harry, this dark magic stuff we’re researching is giving me nightmares. I hope you find what you’re looking for soon.”

Dumbledore’s face, saying, “Harry, be careful not to become what you’re trying to destroy.”

Professor Trelawney’s face, saying, “…the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…”

Then Voldemort’s face again, laughing, saying, “Look at yourself!”

Harry turned, and there was a mirror behind him. As he watched, his facial features slowly morphed into Voldemort’s. As he stared in horror, he heard Voldemort saying, “But at the cost of your soul, Harry Potter!”

Harry screamed, “NOOOOOOO!”

Harry awoke with a start. He jumped up, wincing at the pounding in his head, and fumbled for his glasses. He managed to get them on his face as he staggered to the dingy motel-room mirror. He looked at his reflection and saw – his reflection. He sighed in relief.

It didn’t matter how many times he had the dream. He still needed the reassurance of seeing his own face in the mirror when he awoke. He would have given almost anything for a potion for dreamless sleep, but he was afraid of being caught if he showed his face in a wizard apothecary. Harry Potter was recognized all over the wizarding world, even in America, so he was hiding in the Muggle world. It meant he didn’t have to move quite as often; he was growing tired of running.

Harry regarded his face critically. His empty green eyes stared back at him. He still wasn’t used to the absence of the scar, even though he was grateful the identifying mark was gone. The outward sign of his connection with the Dark Lord had disappeared upon Voldemort’s final demise.

He sighed as he realized how terrible he looked; the months of alcohol abuse had taken their toll. Of course, there was no helping his hair; no matter what he did, it was always a mess. “I must not have taken enough ‘potion,’” he thought grimly, as he looked around the room for the bottle of Jack Daniels.

He took a long drink, then removed his glasses and splashed cold water on his face. He drank the rest of the bottle down and then stepped outside with the vague idea of getting another bottle.

Harry’s motel room opened to the beach. The sun was high in the sky, and he blinked in the brilliant sunlight. He staggered down to the water and sat down heavily on the sand. The rhythm of the waves lulled him into a stupor as he lost track of time staring at the ocean. He looked up and saw a figure approaching him. Harry blinked and then gaped. It was Hermione. But that was impossible – Hermione couldn’t have found him. If he could see Hermione’s face, he must not have drunk enough “potion.” He staggered to his feet to find a liquor store but collapsed. He vaguely heard a voice calling his name before everything went black.

**************************************************************************************************

Harry awoke to pitch darkness. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, his head felt like it was splitting in two, and his skin burned all over. Then he realized it wasn’t dark at all, it was just that he couldn’t get his eyelids to open. He opened his mouth and slurred, “What time is it?”

A voice answered, “It’s late, go back to sleep. You’re safe.”

Harry thought the voice sounded familiar and tried to say, “Who’s there?” but he drifted back into dreamless sleep.

****************************************************************************************************

Ginny Weasley sat at the kitchen table, frowning over the guest list for the Bridesmaids’ Brunch, her red hair shining in the candlelight. She had been very surprised when Hermione Granger had asked her to be Maid of Honor, even though she was marrying the youngest of her six brothers. Hermione had just said, “I feel closer to you than any other girlfriend, Ginny.” And Ginny, feeling honored, had hugged and thanked her.

Ginny looked up from the guest list and pondered. Hermione didn’t have any siblings, and she had asked her only cousin to be a bridesmaid. Her childhood friends before Hogwarts were all Muggles; she had probably lost touch with them. She hadn’t really been close to any of the girls at Hogwarts – she had hung around Ron and Harry all the time.

Harry. It was painful to think of Harry. But it was still almost impossible to think of Ron and Hermione without Harry.

It had started as a silly school-girl crush when she was eleven years old. She had admired her brother’s best friend not because of his fame, but because of his aversion to it. By the time she was fourteen, the adoration had faded, and she had enjoyed dating other boys. The absence of the crush had allowed her to get to know Harry as a person, and she had been included in a few of his many “adventures.”

However, during her sixth year at Hogwarts, she realized she was unconsciously comparing every boy she dated to HIM. But Harry had been so distant that year, his seventh. He would hardly talk to anyone besides Hermione and Ron. Ginny had watched as he slowly looked more and more ill, his eyes more blank. She once gathered the courage to ask Ron if Harry was okay, but Ron had told her to mind her own business. She suspected Ron was worried about him, too.

Then he had disappeared, never knowing how she felt.

Ginny heard footsteps approaching and quickly squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the threatening tears. A voice behind her said, “I didn’t know anyone was still up.”

Ginny replied, “I’m just trying to get this list done since Hermione will be here tomorrow.”

The groom came around to face her and smiled. “Don’t keep her TOO busy with wedding stuff. Let me have a little time with her.” Then Ron saw her face, and his expression changed to concern. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Ginny answered too quickly, “I’m fine.”

Ron nodded with understanding. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “I miss him, too.”

“Who?” Ginny asked sharply.

Ron sighed. He had known for a long time. It hurt him to see the pain in her eyes every time Harry was mentioned. Yes, Harry’s disappearance had hurt Ron and Hermione, but they took comfort in each other. There was no comfort for Ginny’s unconfessed and unrequited love. “You miss Harry,” Ron said simply.

Ginny looked at him in surprise, feeling embarrassed that she had been so transparent. As the tears threatened to spill over, Ron sat beside her and awkwardly took her into his arms. The sobs shook her whole body, and Ron didn’t bother to check the tears that trickled out of his own eyes.

Ginny finally pulled back and composed herself. She was embarrassed about the breakdown but couldn’t help feeling relieved that her closest brother knew about her private pain. She looked into Ron’s eyes. “Will he come back?”

Ron couldn’t bear the look of despair in her eyes. “He has to,” he said quietly.

**************************************************************************************************

Harry woke again, this time to pale light. A face slowly swam into focus above him. “Professor Lupin? What are you doing here? Where am I?”

Remus looked relieved. “We’re in Florida. I found you on the beach. This is my motel room. And please call me Remus; I’m not your teacher anymore, Harry.”

Harry tried to sit up, but Remus pushed him back onto the bed. “Not too fast – the hangover potion I gave you is good, but I’m not sure how it’s going to react with the re-hydration potion, sunburn cream, and the dreamless sleep draught.”

Harry looked around the room – it looked just like his, only opposite. “Hey,” he said, “we must be staying in the same motel. Is my stuff still in my room?”

“You haven’t been in a fit state for me to ask about your living accommodations,” said Remus grimly. “I’ll go get your stuff later.”

Harry sat up, more slowly this time, and moaned as the room started spinning.

“Give yourself a little more time,” Remus said. “By the way, when’s the last time you ate anything?”

“I don’t know; how long have I been asleep?”

“Almost twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, well, I think I had some Jack Daniels right before I went to the beach,” said Harry. “Can you get me some more?”

“What’s Jack Daniels?” asked Remus.

Harry smiled. “You haven’t been in America very long. It’s Muggle whiskey. Pretty good stuff. Want to try some with me?”

Remus shook his head, picked up the phone, and ordered a pizza.

“When did you learn to use a telephone?” asked Harry curiously.

Remus put the phone down. “I’m a man of many talents. I don’t really want to leave you alone right now.”

“Why?” asked Harry. “Afraid I’ll bolt?”

Remus gave Harry a long look. “No,” he said, “I don’t think you’ll run away. But as I said, I’m not sure how all those potions will react with each other.”

“How did you get the medicine?”

“I brought Hedwig with me. I’ve been trying not to use her much, though – I’m pretending to be a Muggle, like you.”

Hedwig was Harry’s owl. “How is she?” he asked Remus.

“She’s fine. You must have talked to her before you left – she refused to take any messages to you.”

“Yes, I did,” acknowledged Harry. “I told her to stay with you – I knew you’d take care of her and she’d have lots of company at the school Owlery.” He was quiet for a moment and then suddenly blurted, “Aren’t you going to ask me where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing?”

Remus sighed. He spoke slowly, “Don’t worry, I will. You owe us all an explanation. You had no right to do this to people who love you. But we’ll save ‘true confessions’ until you’re feeling a little better.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The room was still spinning, and he felt a little nauseated. He lay back down on the bed.

Remus picked up the remote control and turned on the television.

The local news was just starting. Harry started to doze but perked up as the fifth news item was read:

“Police have been unable to identify the person who helped capture nineteen-year-old Homer Wrigley three days ago as he tried to rob a local liquor store. The clerk on duty, Missy Parsons, says someone in a black cloak came into the store and the gun suddenly flew out of Wrigley’s hands, hitting him on the head. The cloaked person checked to ensure Wrigley was unconscious and then told Parsons to call police before running out the door. Parsons’ description of her savior matches the Cloaked Vigilante, who has been preventing crimes all over the United States, apparently by magic.”

The television clicked off, and Harry looked up at Remus, startled. Remus was studying him intently. “It’s you, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question.

Harry was prevented from answering by a pounding on the door. Remus pulled out his wand and said, “Who is it?”

“Domino’s.”

Remus pocketed his wand, opened the door, and paid the man. “Dinner,” he told Harry, “or lunch, or breakfast – when IS the last time you ate anything?”

Harry looked confused. “I’m really not sure. I think I might have eaten some donuts a few days ago when I was in Georgia. What kind of pizza did you get?”

After he had eaten over half the pizza (“Hey, slow down,” Remus tried to warn him. “It’s not good to eat too much after a fast.”), Harry was ready to talk.

“One night I was paying for petrol, and a kid came in with a gun. I assumed he was trying to rob the gas station, so I panicked … I acted without thinking … I magically intervened. I didn’t realize until after it was over that I had broken the law.”

“Harry, you know you can’t use magic on Muggles! You’re just asking for Azkaban!” Azkaban was the wizarding prison in Europe.

“I know, but once I had done it, I knew I was in trouble already, so why not do it again? Does that make any sense at all?”

“No, not really, but I’m not a teenager under the influence of alcohol,” Remus said thoughtfully. “But how did you keep finding the crimes?”

“I’m not sure,” said Harry, looking puzzled, “they just seemed to keep finding me. Every time I went to a new town, I happened upon an attempted robbery, usually at a liquor store or a petrol station. It got to the point that whenever I felt the urge to go out, I just took the black cloak with me.”

“So you seem to be able to predict the crimes.”

“I guess so. I know this sounds pretty weird.”

“Yeah,” said Remus, “if I didn’t know you better, I would almost think you were setting up the crimes to make yourself famous. You know that’s what the authorities will think.”

“Well, I don’t need the crimes and cloak for that,” Harry said bitterly. “I could have stayed in Britain and had all the fame I ever wanted.”

“Which brings us to the next Big Question – why did you leave in the first place?”

Harry didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up suddenly and ran to the toilet. “I TOLD you not to eat so much!” said Remus, shaking his head.

*************************************************************************************************

Hermione sat across the table from Ginny, sipping tea. She was examining the guest list for the Bridesmaids’ Brunch to be held the day before the wedding. Ginny had insisted on giving it, even though Hermione knew she probably couldn’t afford it on her clerk’s salary. They were going to Samantha’s Garden, a beautiful wizard tea room in London.

“Okay,” she said to Ginny, “I see the four bridesmaids listed here: you, Parvati, Lavender, and Sheila. Then there’s my mum and grandmother, your mum, Bill’s wife, and Fred’s fiancée. I don’t know the other people.”

Ginny explained, “Melinda and Mary are my two closest aunts. Sarah is Mary’s daughter; she’ll be starting Hogwarts this year, so I thought she would be old enough to come. I hope it’s okay that I invited Fred’s fiancée, Fiona – I figured she’s close enough to family, and I love her to pieces!”

“That’s fine,” said Hermione, smiling, “I really like Fiona, too.”

“Is there anyone else from your family I should invite?”

“The only one I can think of is Sheila’s mum, Susan,” Hermione answered. “I’ll owl you the address when I get home.”

“Great. Now does everyone in your family know we’re wizards? If not, the restaurant could be a little alarming.”

“I think so,” said Hermione. “What about transportation for those who can’t Apparate?”

Ginny considered. “I think the only one on my side who can’t is Sarah, since she’s underage, but Mary will take care of getting her there. What should we do about your side? They won’t be able to see Samantha’s Garden when they get there; it will just look like an old warehouse.”

“I’ll talk to Mom when I get home – maybe they can all ride in her minivan together.”

“Is Ron going home with you this time?” asked Ginny. Ron and Hermione had both been living with their respective parents since leaving Hogwarts but stayed with each other so often they were together more than apart.

“Is Ron what?” said Ron as he burst in the back door, panting and red-faced.

“Oi!” Ginny yelled at him. “This is MY time with the bride – you get her later!”

Ron grinned. “The GROOM has to wait until later? That’s really not fair!” He walked over to Hermione and lazily dropped an arm around her shoulders.

Ginny watched as they smiled at each other. She couldn’t help smiling when she saw them together, but it still made her feel a little sad, even though it had been more than a year since the third of the trio had been missing.

Ginny swiped at a tear, hoping the lovebirds hadn’t noticed, as Ron stooped to kiss Hermione. But Hermione suddenly pushed Ron away, shouting, “Yuck! You stink! What have you been doing?”

Ron grinned. “Playing Quidditch, what else do you think I do on Saturdays?” The Weasleys were obsessed with the wizard sport. Normally Ginny would have been playing, too, but today her Maid of Honor duties took precedence.

“You’re not touching me again until you take a shower!” Hermione shouted.

Ron’s grin broadened. “So you promise I WILL get to touch you after my shower?”

Hermione blushed furiously. “Get out of here, you animal!” She crumpled up a bit of parchment and threw it at him.

“Okay, okay,” Ron said as he grabbed a scone from the plate on one side of Hermione while stealing a kiss on the opposite cheek. Then he ducked out quickly as Hermione wadded up more ammunition.

Hermione sighed, still blushing. “Remind me – why am I marrying a hormone-crazed lunatic?”

Ginny looked at her with eyebrows raised.

“Okay,” said Hermione, resigned, “I know – stupid question.”

***********************************************************************************************

About twenty-four hours after the pizza incident, Harry began to feel almost normal again. Remus had gone to a nearby grocery store and bought some food Harry found a little gentler on the stomach. He had also gone to Harry’s room to get his bag. Harry walked out of the bathroom in clean clothes, rubbing his hair with a towel.

Remus looked at him approvingly. The color had returned to his face, and he wasn’t shaking as much. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Almost human,” Harry answered. “But this headache just won’t quit.”

“It might not go away for a few days,” said Remus, “I think you were becoming dependant on alcohol.”

“I didn’t know wizards could.”

“They can, but it takes a lot longer than it does with Muggles. You’ve obviously been abusing alcohol for quite some time.”

Harry looked closely at his favorite Hogwarts teacher for the first time since he’d come to Florida. The lines on his tired face had deepened, and his hair was almost completely gray. He felt a twinge of guilt as he realized this was probably due to his disappearance. He had tried not to think about how his absence was affecting his friends. “How did you find me?” Harry asked suddenly.

“Actually, it was Professor Dumbledore who had the hunch. He heard through his Ministry connections that sometimes a deer was seen leaving the scene of the crime after the Cloaked Vigilante disappeared. I came to America, watched the Muggle news for the latest incident, and then started asking at local motels. It was really pretty simple. There’s not many nineteen-year-olds with British accents traveling alone. But I don’t think anyone else has connected the Cloaked Vigilante with Harry Potter.” Remus’ expression became severe. “When did you become an Animagus? And why didn’t you tell me about it?”

Harry looked resigned. “I became an Animagus during the fall of my seventh year – it’s been almost two years, now. But how did you and Dumbledore guess I could turn into a stag?”

“Your Patronus was always a stag. And, of course, your father could turn into a stag. So we guessed. But why didn’t you tell anyone? It’s illegal to have the ability to change into an animal unless you’re officially registered.”

Harry looked away. “Can we talk about something else right now?”

Remus sighed heavily. “I’ll drop it for now, but you’ve got to come clean with me eventually, okay?”

“I will,” said Harry, “just give me a little more time. Did you owl Professor Dumbledore?”

“Yes, I told him where we are and the situation as I know it so far. He’s not going to tell anyone we’ve found you for now.”

“Thanks,” said Harry, relieved.

“What’s going on Harry?”

“How are Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked quickly to change the subject.

Remus sighed again. He was afraid if he pushed Harry too hard, he would change his mind about running away. But he wasn’t sure the topic Harry raised was the best, either. “They’re doing well, Harry. They miss you terribly, of course, but they’re keeping busy. Ron’s training to be an Auror.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Harry said, “Ron always wanted to be an Auror, and he and Hermione had more Defense Against the Dark Arts training than anyone in our year just because they were friends with me.” Remus wondered at the bitter edge in Harry’s voice. “And, of course,” Harry smiled meaningfully at Remus, “we had a great D.A.D.A. teacher those last two years.”

Remus returned Harry’s smile and continued, “Hermione is going to school to become a Potions Master.”

Harry couldn’t help laughing a little. “Hermione will go to school as long as she can get away with it! What does Snape think about that?” Professor Snape was the Hogwarts Potions teacher and had a strong dislike for Harry and his friends.

Remus snickered. “Well, he acts horrified about it, but I think he’s secretly proud that the top student in your class is pursuing his profession.”

Remus looked carefully at Harry, and then plunged ahead. “Ron and Hermione are getting married in two weeks.”

Harry got very quiet. “Wow,” he finally said, “it lasted. Are they happy, Remus?”

Remus looked Harry straight in the eye. “Yes,” he answered, “I believe they are. I don’t see them as often as I’d like, but it’s obvious they are very much in love. However, there is a constant sadness about both of them, and I know it’s because they miss you so much.”

Harry smiled sadly. “I have to admit I’m a little surprised they haven’t killed each other yet. They used to argue so much. But thinking back, I wonder if that was because of the underlying feelings they were denying.”

Remus took a deep breath. “I always thought you were in love with her, Harry.”

Harry stared at Remus, startled. How had he known? But he said, “No, of course not – that’s ridiculous. I’m very happy for them.”

Remus looked hard at Harry but decided to drop it. Harry said, “So tell me about the rest of Ron’s family.”

“Well, Ginny just took a job as a clerk at Gringotts in London.”

“You’re kidding? I can remember when Ginny was just a scared little kid. It’s hard to imagine the Goblins wouldn’t scare her to death.”

“Well, you know, she’s a lot tougher than she used to be.”

***************************************************************************************************

When Ginny went into Gringotts on Monday, she was surprised by an odd contraption on her desk. As she examined it curiously, a voice from the door said, “It’s a computer, Weasley.”

She looked at Reeker, her Goblin supervisor, with surprise. “I’ve heard of those,” she said slowly, “from friends who grew up with Muggles. But I’ve never heard of them being used in the wizarding world.”

Reeker smiled, if you could call it a smile. It made his face even uglier. “Gringotts is considering converting our accounts to computers, but we’re not sure they would be more efficient than magic. You and Creevey are going to take a Muggle computer class and submit a report detailing the advantages and disadvantages of converting our magical account records into a computer database.”

Ginny looked puzzled. “Why Colin and I?” she asked curiously. Colin Creevey had been in Ginny’s year at Hogwarts and in her house, Gryffindor, but she didn’t know him all that well. She had almost forgotten he was also working for Gringotts.

Reeker replied, “Obviously we need to send humans, since it’s a Muggle class. It’s more efficient to send employees at the lower end of the pay scale, in case this turns out to be a waste of time. You and Creevey have shown notable intelligence in the short time you’ve been employed with Gringotts, that is …for humans.”

Ginny had learned not to be offended by Reeker’s bluntness – he was a Goblin, after all. A human had to have a tough skin to work at Gringotts. And, actually, Ginny was surprised at the comment about her intelligence; it was the closest thing to a compliment she’d ever heard from him.

She couldn’t help smiling. Now that she thought about it, this might be fun. “When do we start?”

******************************************************************************************************

Harry felt ready for “real food” that night, so they went to Red Lobster for dinner. Remus hated Muggle restaurants, but Harry insisted, saying it was his favorite American food. Remus muttered, “That’s okay, you’re paying for it anyway.”

Once they were seated and the waiter took their drink orders (no alcohol), Harry said quietly, “I hope you were kidding about me paying; I’m just about out of money.”

“No, you’re not,” said Remus.

“Yes, I am. My vault at Gringotts is empty. I’ve spent all my inheritance.”

Remus smiled. “No, Harry, you haven’t. I was planning to tell you on your eighteenth birthday, but you had already disappeared. Sirius left you his entire estate, which was considerable. Thanks for dinner, by the way.”

Harry winced a bit at the sound of his godfather’s name. The death of Sirius Black still felt fresh and painful to him, even though it had been more than three years. “Why didn’t anyone tell me before?”

“The will was bitterly contested. Professor Dumbledore and I thought it best not to tell you until it was settled. Even though you were Sirius’ only heir, several of his cousins wanted a share. Narcissa Malfoy raised the biggest stink of all. But in the end, everything went to you.”

Harry thought about this. He didn’t really want Sirius’ money – he would much rather have Sirius back. But he had to admit it would come in handy now. He couldn’t feel sorry for Sirius’ relatives – they were all steeped in the Dark Arts, especially Narcissa Malfoy. “So I’m not poor?”

“Far from it. You probably won’t ever have to work at all.”

Realization finally dawned on Harry. “Remus, you borrowed a bit of his money for this trip, didn’t you?”

Remus corrected, “YOUR money. Yes, I was looking for you, after all. Besides, you owe me big after the year you put me through.”

Harry couldn’t help a small smile. Remus had a good point.

They finished dinner, and Remus paid the waiter with Harry’s money. As they got into the car, Harry said, “You know, Remus, I don’t think I could ever leave this car. If I ever decide to go back to Britain, do you think we could ship it across the pond?”

Remus glanced at Harry, startled. This was the first time Harry had mentioned going home. “So…are you going back to Britain with me?”

Harry shrugged. “I assumed that’s why you came. But I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

Remus decided to leave that topic alone for now. Instead he said, “Wouldn’t it drive you crazy – the steering wheel would be on the wrong side in England.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” said Harry, “but it’s such a great car.”

“Maybe you can sell this one, and use the money to get a sexy sports car in Britain, with the steering wheel on the right side.”

“Who says the left isn’t right?” said Harry.

Remus raised his eyebrows. “You’ve definitely been in America too long.”

They drew up to the motel, pulled up the top on the car, and went inside.

Harry yawned, stretched, and sat down on the bed. Remus placed one of the chairs right in front of Harry, sat down, and looked him in the eye. “Okay, Harry, let’s have it. It’s time for you to tell me why you left.”

To his surprise, Harry’s eyes filled with tears. He looked away, and his voice shook as he spoke. “Remus, you’ve been so good to me the last few days. I don’t deserve it. I’ve been so horrible.”

Remus was suddenly reminded of the vulnerable thirteen-year-old he had met six years earlier, who had grown up without parents. “Harry, look at me!” Remus said softly. Harry looked. “I love you, Harry. I don’t know what it’s like to have a son, but I can’t imagine loving a son more than you.”

Harry looked intently at Remus. “No, you loved my father. I’m not him. I’ll never be him.”

Remus was taken aback. He’d never talked about his feelings to Harry before, but this still surprised him.

Harry continued, “You and Sirius – you both felt responsible for me because I didn’t have parents. I think Sirius always believed the death of my parents was his fault. And after Sirius died, you were there for me when I needed someone. But you’re not to blame for what I’ve done. I’m an adult now, and I’ve made my own mistakes. You can’t keep feeling responsible for me, Remus.”

Remus sighed. “But that’s not why I’m here. Harry, I know you have trouble understanding parental love since you grew up without it, but you’ve got to believe that I love you for YOU. James was a peer – someone to get into trouble with – a brother. You’re my SON, and I love you no matter what you’ve done.”

Hope began to dawn in Harry’s eyes, but then he shook his head. “You can’t, you won’t – not after I tell you what I did.”

Remus said, “Harry, you can tell me anything, and it won’t change how I feel. Why did you leave?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Okay, you asked for it…”

*********************************

Draco Malfoy cursed under his breath as he shifted the sack to his other arm so he could unlock the door. He hated using keys, but he couldn’t risk even a small spell outside the flat. He caught a glimpse of the Dark Mark on his left arm, and his stomach tightened in resentment.

He had been so eager to take the Dark Mark. He had been intoxicated by the promises of power and wealth beyond his wildest dreams. His father, Lucius Malfoy, and Lord Voldemort finally agreed to perform the ceremony to make Draco a Death Eater on his eighteenth birthday.

However, only a few months after Draco had been initiated into Voldemort’s inner circle, the Dark Lord had perished, and all the Death Eaters, including Draco and Lucius, had been forced into hiding. So much for power and wealth.

Draco felt the anger and hatred clench in his stomach. This was all Harry Potter’s fault.

Draco had hated Harry since they were eleven years old and on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, traveling to school. Draco had offered Harry his friendship, only to be rejected. Harry thought he was special because of his stupid scar, and because he was good at Quidditch.

Harry had killed Voldemort. It was Harry who had ruined Draco’s life, and reduced him to hiding.

He glanced at his unfamiliar reflection in the mirror just inside the door. His normally blonde hair had been dyed brown, along with his goatee. He was also wearing glasses to further disguise his appearance.

“Is that you, boy?” said a voice in the kitchen. “It’s about time – I’m starving!”

Draco quickly took the food to his father in the kitchen, the smell of fish and chips making his own stomach rumble as well, but he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to eat until his father had eaten all he wanted.

As he watched Lucius Malfoy eat, Draco wondered whether to broach the subject that had been bothering him lately. He decided to risk it. He swallowed and meekly said, “Father, we’re almost out of money.”

Lucius had suspected they were running low, but they couldn’t risk accessing their Gringotts vault. Lucius was getting tired of hiding and thought if they didn’t try to get money from their vault, the Ministry might believe they were dead and quit hunting for them. Lucius was careful not to betray his worry to his son; instead, he fixed him with an angry gaze, as though blaming him. However, his angry retort flew from his head when something on the Muggle television caught his attention. “Turn up the volume,” he commanded.

Draco complied, wondering.

After the news report, Lucius smiled evilly. “Draco, let’s take a little trip to America.”


	2. Confessions

Remus said, “Harry, you can tell me anything, and it won’t change how I feel. Why did you leave?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Okay, you asked for it…” He looked Remus in the eye and sighed. “It’s because of how I killed Voldemort.”

“I’ve been curious about that,” acknowledged Remus. “Ron and Hermione would never tell me.”

Harry nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think they were ashamed, too, even though they didn’t actually use it – they only helped me with the research.”

“Harry, I’m not following you…” Remus paused as realization began to dawn. “You mean … Harry … you used Dark magic to kill Voldemort?”

Harry suddenly became very interested in his shoes. In a barely audible voice, he said, “I used Dark magic to change him back into a human so I could kill him with the Killing Curse.”

“But Avada Kedavra works on non-humans,” Remus protested, rubbing his chin absently. “You told me Mad-Eye Moody … I mean Crouch … used it to kill a spider that year he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts.”

“He did,” said Harry, “but Voldemort wasn’t even anything … well … natural. That’s why I couldn’t kill him that time during my sixth year. He’d taken certain precautions to prevent himself from being killed, and the only way we could find to counteract the Dark magic was … well … Dark magic.”

“So this has all been about guilt – guilt about using Dark magic.”

“NO!” Harry shouted, standing up so suddenly that Remus leaned back instinctively. “Don’t you see what I’ve become? I’m evil! I’m just as bad as Voldemort! Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione … they all tried to warn me. And Voldemort … he flat out said it just before I killed him.”

“Said what?” asked Remus gently.

“That he will never be truly dead as long as I live because of the way I killed him. Don’t you see? I’ve become Voldemort!”

Remus stared at Harry in shock.

Harry began to pace the hotel room as he continued in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “And the media – they were just having a heyday over ‘The Boy Who Lived’ finally killing ‘You-Know-Who.’ I was such a hero! Good defeating evil and all that. I just couldn’t take it any more, knowing the truth – knowing it was all a lie…” Harry buried his face in his hands. “The worst part about it is that I led my two best friends down the same path. I corrupted two of the most wonderful people in the world. I had to get away before I ruined more lives.”

At this, Remus couldn’t help smiling a little. “Harry, look at me.”

Harry reluctantly pulled his eyes up to Remus’ face.

“First off,” Remus began, “Ron’s and Hermione’s lives are hardly ruined. I think the only thing that could make them happier is having you back. Secondly, Harry, you’re not evil! If you were, you wouldn’t be feeling guilty about this. You can’t take the word of a dying psychopath. Don’t you see? His final words were his only means of getting revenge. He died knowing you would probably doubt yourself for years.”

“I probably will,” Harry mumbled.

“Harry, you’ve got to let this go. If you don’t, you’re letting Voldemort rule your destiny. He’s dead – you can’t let him control your life anymore.” Remus stood and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Listen to me, Harry. Voldemort hated you and wanted to hurt you. I love you, and I’m telling you the truth – you’re NOT evil!”

Harry turned and walked a few steps away. He couldn’t face Remus for this. “There’s something else I haven’t told you. Peter’s dead. I killed him.”

Remus swallowed. Peter had been one of Remus’ best friends before he became a Death Eater. “Harry, I’m sure you had to disable a lot of Death Eaters to get to Voldemort. You only did what was necessary.”

“No,” Harry said, shifting uneasily, “it wasn’t necessary.”

“What do you mean?” When Harry didn’t answer immediately, Remus took a step toward him. “Harry?”

When Harry finally answered, it was in a dead, flat voice Remus had never heard before. “Ron had put him in a Full Body-Bind and broken his wand. He was totally defenseless. I killed him in cold blood, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “Do Ron and Hermione know about this?”

“Th-they watched me do it. Th-they tried to stop me. I think they were actually … afraid of me at that moment.”

Remus couldn’t help remembering that this same young man only five years earlier had refused to allow Remus and Sirius to kill Peter, even though Peter had betrayed Harry’s parents to the Dark Lord. They had come full circle, and Remus found he couldn’t blame Harry for this death. He walked around to face Harry and said, “Harry, I know this is a lot of guilt for you to handle. But I want you to know, none of this matters to me – I still love you. And I know that your true friends will feel the same.”

“I hope someday I can believe you.”

Remus embraced him and said warmly, “We’ll work this out, Harry.”

Harry looked at Remus. His eyes were full of love and … pride? How was that possible? How could Remus still believe in him after all he’d done? Harry was overcome, and tears threatened to spill out of his own eyes. He choked out, “Thank you,” which seemed inadequate but was all he could manage.

Remus nodded and smiled. “Now let’s get back to Britain, shall we?” At the look of horror on Harry’s face, he quickly said, “Quietly, quietly, with no media attention. You can stay at Hogwarts for awhile, okay?”

Harry nodded, and they began to pack their things.

*************************************************************

They were able to find a used car dealer who would pay cash for the Mustang. Harry looked at it longingly as their taxi drove away.

The journey over was uneventful. They had to use a Muggle commercial flight, since Harry hadn’t learned to Apparate yet and it was too far for broomsticks. Harry was fitted for brown contact lenses before they left, and he also charmed his hair to be temporarily blonde.

Remus said, “I think you’re being paranoid, Harry, the wizard press will hardly be watching the commercial airlines. But you certainly are unrecognizable.”

They slowly made their way to Hogwarts, avoiding contact with the wizarding world as much as possible. When they arrived, Remus immediately escorted Harry to Professor Dumbledore’s office.

Harry was very nervous about seeing Dumbledore, expecting a stern reception. Instead, the Headmaster’s eyes lit up when he saw him, and he was surprised when Dumbledore gave him a brief hug before saying, “Harry, it’s so good to see you!”

Harry’s nervousness melted away after that warm greeting, and he found himself able to explain to the Headmaster what he had been doing for the past year. When he finished, Dumbledore said, “Harry, why did you run away?”

Harry faltered and looked to Remus for help. Remus smiled his encouragement and nodded slightly.

Harry was unable to look at the Headmaster as he told that part of the story. When he finished, he looked up slowly, bracing himself for the anger and disappointment in his mentor’s eyes, but he only saw love and a little sadness. The hope that had begun in his heart when Remus accepted him grew a little larger.

Dumbledore said, “Harry, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You are feeling great remorse for what you’ve done. So great that you attempted to quiet it by running away. People who have given in to the Darkness DO NOT feel remorse. Your feelings are painful, but they are proof that you haven’t lost yourself in the Darkness.

“You cannot continue to run away from these feelings. You must face them and face what you have done. Otherwise, you will never heal. The best way I can see to heal from your brush with Darkness is to surround yourself with light.”

“How do I do that?” Harry asked quietly.

Dumbledore smiled. “I think the first step is to contact your friends. I know they will be glad to see you.”

Harry weakly returned his smile, still unsure.

Dumbledore turned to Remus. “Now,” he said, “the next thing we need to do is to decide how much of this story to tell the Ministry and the press. I know they will be very interested in where Harry’s been and what he’s been doing this past year.”

Harry leaned forward, his eyes wide with alarm. “But it isn’t anyone’s business, is it? I mean, I’m an adult after all. If I want to go to America and live as a Muggle for a year, what can they say about it?”

Remus laid a hand on Harry’s arm. “Professor Dumbledore is right, Harry. We’re going to have to tell the Ministry something – they spent quite a lot of resources searching for you. You also need to have a press conference.”

Harry slumped back in his chair, terrified at the very idea. However, Dumbledore asked calmly, “Harry, how many people know about the Dark Arts and Peter Pettigrew’s death?”

Harry swallowed. “Besides you and Remus, only Hermione and Ron. I know they’ll never tell anyone else.”

“And what about the Cloaked Vigilante?”

“Only you and Remus.”

“Good,” Dumbledore nodded, “I would suggest you not let that leave this room for now. If you must tell Ron and Hermione, wait until the hype has died down.”

Harry nodded. “Professor Dumbledore, do you think I should register as an Animagus?”

Dumbledore raised his eyes to the ceiling, made a triangle with his fingers, and rested his chin on his fingertips. After a moment, he returned his gaze to Harry and answered, “While I don’t normally approve of breaking the law, I think in this case it might be wise to keep that quiet for now. Ron and Hermione have not registered, either.”

Harry looked up in surprise. “How did you…?”

Dumbledore smiled. “I was watching you more closely than you knew. I suspected you might try to accomplish the transformation since your father had. And I assumed your two best friends would go along with you. It was during the fall of your seventh year, correct?”

Harry nodded and managed a small smile. “It made it easier to leave Hogwarts so we could research Dark Arts and find Voldemort.”

Remus spoke up. “Does anyone else know about the three of you?”

Harry thought about that. “I think Hagrid suspected, but of course he’s gone. I also think a few of our closer friends might have known, but they never asked. I can’t imagine any of them telling anyone.”

“Well,” Dumbledore said, resting his palms on his desk, “I think that’s enough for tonight. I know you two must be exhausted from your trip. Harry, I’ll wait a few days before I tell the Ministry you’re here. In the meantime, you should contact your friends while you can still do so quietly.”

They all stood, and Dumbledore shook Harry’s hand. “Thank you, Professor,” Harry stammered.

As Remus and Harry walked toward the guest rooms, Harry said, “Remus, c-could you owl Ron and Hermione for me? I j-just don’t think I can.”

Remus looked at the pleading look in Harry’s eyes and smiled. “Of course I will – as soon as you and I have had a long sleep.”

******************************************

Ron was getting an afternoon snack in the kitchen of the Burrow when the owl came. He read the message, paled, and sank into a chair. Ginny walked in, stopping suddenly when she saw Ron staring at the parchment.

“Ron, what is it?” she asked in an alarmed voice.

Ron folded the parchment quickly and pocketed it. “Nothing.”

Ginny wasn’t fooled. “It’s Harry, isn’t it? Is he okay?”

Ron thought for a moment and decided he couldn’t keep this from Ginny. He pulled the parchment from his pocket and handed it to her.

She gasped as she read:

Dear Ron,

PLEASE DO NOT TELL ANYONE THE CONTENTS OF THIS LETTER – YET.

I found Harry. He’s here, with me, at Hogwarts, and he’s fine. He wants to see you and Hermione, but no one else for the time being. Please come as soon as you can get away, and we’ll explain everything. I owled Hermione.

Remus

 

When Ginny found her voice, she whispered, “Professor Lupin told you not to tell anyone.”

Ron sighed and said, “I couldn’t bear for you not to know.”

Ginny threw her arms around her brother and began to sob. Ron let her cry for a few minutes and then untangled himself. “Listen,” he said, “if anyone comes in here and finds you howling, they’ll know something’s up. Why don’t you run upstairs for awhile? I need to call Hermione and go to Hogwarts. I’ll come talk to you as soon as I get back, okay?”

Ginny thought about begging Ron to take her but understood that he and Hermione needed to go see Harry alone, this first time. She nodded, unable to speak, and ran upstairs.

Ron went into the living room to get the Floo powder, but Hermione’s head was already sitting in the fireplace. Ron noticed she looked pale, but that might have been because of the flames licking her face. “Hey – I guess you got your owl,” he said.

***********************************************

Remus was surprised to find the Headmaster and Professor Snape in his office when he returned from the Owlery. Professor Severus Snape was the Potions Master at Hogwarts, and most students hated his icy personality. Remus and Severus had had a rocky start as colleagues, mostly because of their shared history as Hogwarts students but had reluctantly formed a mutual respect over the years.

Remus closed the door and sat behind his desk. Dumbledore spoke first. “How’s Harry today?”

Remus smiled slightly. “I haven’t seen him; I think he’s still asleep. I just owled Ron and Hermione for him.”

Dumbledore came to the point. “Severus and I have been discussing Harry’s adventures during the past year. It’s odd how he was able to predict the crimes.”

Remus started. “I thought we were keeping that between the three of us!”

“Yes, but this particular aspect is something I think we need to explore further, and you know I trust Severus implicitly.”

Remus sighed in resignation. “Yes, Harry couldn’t really explain how he knew where the crimes would be. Just that he got a feeling he needed to go.”

Severus spoke for the first time. “Of course, the Headmaster chooses not to believe that Mr. Potter was ‘arranging’ the crimes to gain more fame,” he said nastily.

Remus was angered but retained his calm demeanor. “Severus, if you had been more observant when Harry was a student here, you would realize he’s not like his father. Harry never wanted to be in the spotlight.”

Dumbledore said, “Severus, as I already told you, I agree with Remus. Harry has never sought the fame that was forced upon him. I don’t believe he was looking for fame in the United States – he was trying to hide. There is another explanation for this, and I believe it is the most obvious one.”

*******************************************************************************

Harry heard a knock on the guest room door as he finished getting dressed. He opened the door to Remus’ smiling face. “Good morning,” said Remus, “I mean, good afternoon.”

Harry smiled sheepishly. He hadn’t slept nightmare-free in over a year. It had felt good to wake up and realize he had slept through the night and most of the morning. “Good afternoon, yourself.”

“Have you eaten anything?”

“No, I haven’t been hungry yet.”

Harry was dying to ask and couldn’t wait any longer. “Have you heard from Ron and Hermione? Do they want to see me?”

Remus’ smile broadened. “They’re already here! Can I bring them up?”

The eagerness in Harry’s eyes faded into nervousness. “They’re here?” he repeated weakly.

Remus looked into Harry’s eyes. “Harry, they wanted to see you so badly that they didn’t even bother to reply to my owls - they just came!”

Hope dawned in Harry’s eyes. “Yes,” he murmured, “bring them up. Thanks.”

Remus was only gone a few minutes – but it seemed like hours. Harry felt a million butterflies in his stomach as he waited for the door to open again.

When it opened, it was like a dam bursting. A female voice screamed, “Harry!” and the owner of the voice hurled herself at him. Hermione hugged Harry so hard his ribs hurt. She drew her head back and examined his face before kissing his cheek. Then she pressed her cheek against his and murmured in his ear, “Harry, we missed you so much!” She looked at his face again before releasing him, as though she was afraid he would disappear.

Harry then turned to the tall, red-haired man, and was surprised when Ron pulled him into a massive hug, something he’d never done in all the years they had been friends.

Harry was overcome by their enthusiasm. He could only say, “I’m so sorry,” over and over as he struggled to choke back tears.

Remus Lupin watched the reunion with pleasure and then quietly exited the room.

***********************************************************

Harry sat between his two best friends on the couch in his guest room. He told them why he left without contacting them, and they accepted his explanation and apology more easily than he expected. Ron said, “We know what you went through – we were there for most of it, remember?”

Explaining what he had been doing the past year was trickier, since he was not supposed to tell them about the Cloaked Vigilante. But in the end, it came out anyway, and although Hermione was shocked at him for using magic on Muggles, Ron showed only admiration.

Now they were sitting in silence, just savoring the joy of being together. Hermione was constantly touching Harry in some way, holding his hand or resting her elbow on his knee, as if she was afraid he would leave again. Harry was amazed at the lack of awkwardness between them – it was as if the past year had never happened. However, something was nagging at the back of his mind. No, nothing would ever really be the same for the three of them again.

Harry stood up and walked to the window. As he gazed at the view, he said, “I hear you two are going on an adventure I can’t join. I guess congratulations are in order.”

Ron was a little taken aback by this statement. He had never considered that their marriage might make Harry feel left out. “Harry, I…”

“I’m very happy for you,” Harry interrupted and slowly turned to face him. “It’s just…I don’t know…it’s just going to be different.”

Hermione stood up and walked over to him with a pleading look. “Yes, it will. But it would have been different, anyway. We’re adults now, we’re not in school. We’ll all have our different careers and such.”

“That’s true,” admitted Harry, looking at the floor.

“Hey,” said Ron, trying to change the subject, “how long are you going to keep yourself a secret?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry shrugged. “Dumbledore says he’ll notify the Ministry in a few days, and he says I need to have a press conference.” Ron and Hermione both looked at him sympathetically; they knew how he felt about the press.

Ron stood up and joined them at the window. “Wow,” he said appreciatively, “you’ve got a view of the Quidditch pitch.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Can I go ahead and let my family in on the secret? They helped raise you, remember?”

Harry smiled. That was certainly true.

Hermione piped up, “You have to let me tell my parents, Harry!”

Harry said, “Okay, but only if they can keep it quiet. I don’t want the press hounding me.”

“Who are MY parents going to tell?” Hermione said impatiently; her parents were Muggles.

“Hey,” said Ron, “I have an idea. Tomorrow is Wednesday – that’s the day Fred and George close the shop early. They usually come to dinner at the Burrow. Sometimes Percy drops by, and Ginny will be there – she’s living at home right now. Why don’t you come for dinner?”

Harry hesitated. “All right,” he said slowly, “but on one condition. Don’t tell them I’ll be there – let’s surprise them.”

“Done,” agreed Ron. He understood why Harry wanted it that way. If his mother knew Harry would be there, she would make a huge fuss.

************************************************************

Arthur Weasley rose from the table to answer the pounding on the front door, griping quietly about having his dinner interrupted. Molly wondered allowed, “Who could that be?” while she loaded the table with food.

Four of the other six dinner companions looked bewildered, but two had a twinkle in their eyes. Ginny noticed Ron and Hermione glance at each other. She caught Ron’s eye and saw his repressed excitement. Her heart began to beat faster as she raised her eyebrows, and Ron winked at her.

Arthur opened the door and said, “Remus, what are you doing he- … Oh my … MOLLY! Come here!”

Arthur didn’t wait for Molly but dragged Harry into the kitchen. Molly squealed and grabbed Harry into a hug that knocked the wind out of him. Fred and George jumped up at the same time and almost pulled Harry in two trying to shake his hands. Ginny stood up and went to him hesitantly, giving him an embarrassed hug and a peck on the cheek. Percy even rose and approached Harry with a smile.

Arthur noticed there were two at the table who didn’t react and said, “Ron, Hermione, you knew about this.” They only grinned back at him.

For the second time in as many days, Harry was overwhelmed by the enthusiasm at his return. He had convinced himself that everyone would be angry with him for disappearing without communication. In spite of himself, Harry enjoyed the Weasley dinner thoroughly. No one asked too many questions about what he’d been doing, but instead updated him on Weasley happenings, especially the wedding.

The fourth time the wedding was mentioned, Harry noticed Hermione giving Ron a kick. “Ask him,” she said under her breath.

“I’d like to ask him in private,” Ron said out of the side of his mouth.

But by then, they had everyone’s attention. Ron turned beet red and said, “Oh, all right. Harry, I was wondering if you’d be my best man.”

Harry couldn’t help grinning. “Of course I will, mate.”

After dinner, Harry found himself lingering at the table, talking to Ginny about computers. Harry was surprised that Gringotts was considering automating their record keeping. Ginny had started her computer class and was really enjoying it, much to her surprise.

Harry had bought a laptop in the United States and had passed a lot of time playing games and surfing the internet. Suddenly he realized something. “Now I’ll have someone to e-mail! You’re the only friend I have who has a computer!”

Ginny couldn’t help being pleased at the thought of exchanging e-mail with Harry, but she tried to keep her tone casual. “We haven’t learned much about e-mail yet, but I’ll try sending you a note when I learn how.”

Harry enthusiastically scribbled down his e-mail address on a scrap of parchment and handed it to her. He said, “Next time I come, I’ll try to remember to bring my laptop, and I’ll show you how if you haven’t learned yet.”

Ginny beamed.

**********************************************************

Albus Dumbledore beamed at the crowd gathered outside the gates of Hogwarts as if he were overjoyed to see them. “Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you so much for coming today. I believe you all know why we’ve called you here. Mr. Potter will read a brief statement, and then he will take a few questions. Please give him your attention.”

“Are you ready?” Remus asked Harry quietly.

“If you mean ready to throw up, then, yes.”

Remus walked Harry through the gates and stood behind him at the podium. The applause did nothing to ease Harry’s nerves. He cleared his throat and read from the parchment Remus and Professor Dumbledore had helped him prepare:

“I know there have been many questions and rumors about my absence from Britain during the past year. I would like to take this opportunity to put those questions and rumors to rest. It was my decision to leave Britain – I was not forced to do so in any way. I simply needed to get away and rest for awhile. It was also my decision to return to Britain. I missed my friends. Thank you for coming, and I’ll answer a few questions at this time.”

“So, you weren’t kidnapped by Death Eaters?”

“No, like I said, I left and returned on my own.”

“Where were you for all that time?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s none of your business.”

“Did you return to Britain for the Weasley/Granger wedding?”

“That was part of the reason. I’m looking forward to participating in the wedding next week.”

“Even though Hermione Granger was YOUR girlfriend at Hogwarts?”

“That’s not true – Hermione and I never had a romantic relationship. Ron and Hermione are my best friends, and I’m very happy for them.”

“Are YOU dating anyone, Harry?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s none of your business.”

“Do you plan to stay in Britain?”

“Yes, I plan to stay and catch up with my friends. I have no travel plans right now.”

“What career plans do you have?”

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Is it true that you don’t need to find a job since you’re the sole heir to the Black family estate?” That last question, from a reporter he recognized, Rita Skeeter, took Harry by surprise, even though he was familiar with her reporting tactics.

He hesitated before answering. “I’m sorry, but my financial condition is none of your business.”

“But Harry,” Rita persisted, “don’t you think the public deserves to know if you’ve been friends with a convicted murderer?”

Harry felt his anger rising. “Sirius Black was innocent – he didn’t kill anyone. He was my godfather and a wonderful person. I was proud to call him my friend.”

“Even though he betrayed your parents?”

Harry felt Remus’ hand on his shoulder, but he couldn’t let it go. “Sirius didn’t betray my parents – he wasn’t their Secret-Keeper. And I didn’t come to this conference to discuss Sirius, please ask me relevant questions.”

Rita didn’t want to stop now that she smelled blood. “It is common knowledge that the Black family was well versed in the Dark Arts.” Some of the other reporters nodded. “Because of your association with the Blacks, I can’t help wondering if you’ve dabbled in the Dark Arts?”

Harry’s face quickly went from red to white – that was a little too close to the mark. Remus gently pushed Harry aside and said clearly and evenly, “That’s absolutely ridiculous. Have you forgotten that Harry defeated the darkest sorcerer ever known? I think he’s finished answering questions for today.”

As Remus steered Harry back through the gates, ignoring questions directed at him (“Professor Lupin, were YOU friends with Sirius Black?” “Professor Lupin, is Harry staying with you?”), he whispered, “I’m sorry, Harry, it never occurred to me that they might ask about Sirius. I guess the contesting of the will is public record.”

Harry answered, “That’s okay. I’m just grateful you got me out of there when you did. I’m dreading the headlines tomorrow.” Harry had agreed to the press conference in the hopes that the reporters would get the answers they wanted and leave him alone, but it seemed they had dug up enough dirt to keep bothering him for awhile.

***********************************************************

“As you know, Harry, the new term begins next week. You are welcome to continue to stay here at Hogwarts, but I thought you might be uncomfortable with all the students goggling you,” Dumbledore said kindly from behind his desk.

Harry considered his words. The Headmaster was certainly right, but on the other hand, if he left Hogwarts he would be more vulnerable to the press.

Remus, as if reading his thoughts, suggested, “Have you considered living in Sirius’ house? It would be difficult for the press to find you since it’s unplottable.”

Harry looked down and shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t think I could do that. Maybe someday…”

Remus quickly said, “I’m sure you could find a flat in Hogsmeade. That way, you would still be near Hogwarts.”

Harry sighed and shook his head in frustration. “I need to learn to Apparate – I’m getting tired of having to fly everywhere. Then it wouldn’t matter where I lived.”

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward and looked at Harry shrewdly. “Would you rather not live in Hogsmeade?”

Harry turned to Remus and weighed his words carefully; he didn’t want Remus to think he didn’t want to be near him. “Well, I’d really like to find a place that’s wired for electricity and telephones, as well as the Floo Network. I’m not sure I could find a place like that in an all-wizard village. Maybe I could get a flat in London, then I could Apparate to visit you whenever I wanted.”

Remus smiled and suggested, “Why don’t you and I go down to London tomorrow and have a look around?”

Harry returned his smile. “Thanks, Remus, I’d appreciate the help.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, “Now that that’s settled, Harry, we need to talk about your apparent divining abilities.”

“My…what?”

Remus said, “Harry, you told us you always seemed to know where to travel next, both to find crimes and to escape law enforcement. We can only conclude that you have the ability to predict the future.”

Dumbledore chimed in, “This is a very rare gift, Harry. You have a responsibility to develop it to its full potential.”

Harry looked at them each in turn then rose and began to pace the Headmaster’s office. The portraits on the walls that weren’t asleep followed him with their eyes. Harry stared at the floor as he paced, as if hoping it held the answers he sought. His mentors both remained in their seats calmly and waited.

Harry didn’t want to believe that Professor Dumbledore and Professor Lupin were right, but in his heart he knew it was true. He COULD predict the future. How ironic is this? I always hated Divination class. He finally stopped pacing and turned to face the older men. “You’re not suggesting I take lessons from Professor Trelawney, are you?”

Remus snorted. Professor Trelawney was the Divination teacher at Hogwarts, and despite the three correct predictions she had made, most considered her a fraud.

The Headmaster frowned slightly at Remus. “No. And for that reason, we need to keep this quiet. I do not wish to offend her. I also think it would be wise to keep this from the Ministry and the press.”

“Then what should I do?” Harry asked.

Professor Dumbledore looked into Harry’s eyes, as if challenging him. “Severus has some ideas, stemming from his talents in Occlumency.”

Harry couldn’t help a small groan. His Occlumency lessons with Snape during his fifth and sixth years had not been pleasant. “Okay,” he mumbled, “I’ll talk to Snape after the wedding.”

“Good,” said Remus. “There’s one more thing we need to discuss with you.” Harry sat down again and gave Remus his full attention. Remus took a deep breath as if he were preparing for a dive. “Professor Dumbledore knows a doctor we think you should see.”

“Why?” Harry said, “I’m fine.” Then realization began to dawn. “Wait a minute … you’re talking about a shrink! Do you think I’m crazy?”

Professor Dumbledore smiled, but his eyes were serious. “Harry, I think you’re one of the sanest people I know. However, you’re carrying around an incredible load of guilt and pain. We would like to see you find some release.”

“No way!” Harry said loudly, “No way am I talking to a shrink!”

Remus laid a hand on Harry’s arm. “Harry, you have to admit, you’ve not been handling this well on your own.”

Harry wouldn’t listen. “I’m fine … I can take care of myself.”

“Numbing the pain with alcohol isn’t taking care of yourself,“ Remus said calmly, but firmly. “You can’t go around in a drunken stupor all the time.”

Harry shouted, “Why not?” But he began to calm down; Remus had a point. The past year was not one he would care to relive. He sighed. “How am I supposed to talk to a psychiatrist when most of what’s bothering me is top-secret?”

Dumbledore answered, “That’s a valid concern, Harry. But I trust Dr. Wilson implicitly. She will also be very discreet about the fact that you’re a patient, so the press won’t hear of it.”

Harry started; he’d forgotten about the press.

“Harry,” Remus said, “Dr. Wilson is very helpful. I … I’ve talked to her myself a few times.”

Harry gaped at Remus. Remus gave a small smile. “Well, it’s not easy living with my – my condition, and I also had a few issues to work out after Sirius died.”

Harry closed his mouth but still looked surprised. Finally he said, “Okay, I’ll think about it. But not until after the wedding.”


	3. Beginings

The days before the wedding slipped by quickly. Harry found a furnished Muggle flat in London with a fireplace and immediately set up Floo and telephone service. It felt odd having his own place; his aunt and uncle’s house had never felt like home, and he’d shared his Hogwarts dormitory with four other boys.

Harry felt very strange the first time he went to Sirius’s Gringotts vault. It seemed wrong to be disturbing the echoing space. He was grateful that Remus had offered to accompany him; Remus seemed to understand his feelings, and his presence seemed to validate the intrusion.

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise when the goblin opened the vault door.

“Wow!” he whispered. “I don’t believe it … it’s the motorcycle!”

Remus laughed softly. “Yes, that certainly brings back memories. I take it you’ve heard about it?”

Harry walked slowly toward the motorcycle, irresistibly drawn by the shining chrome. He touched a handlebar reverently. “Yeah,” he said, “actually, I rode it once … with Hagrid. He used it to take me to my aunt and uncle when my parents were killed. I used to have dreams about it before I found out I was a wizard. It flies, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” answered Remus, “but surely you don’t remember that?”

“I overheard Hagrid telling the story once.”

“Overheard?” Remus said in a disapproving voice. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“No, you don’t.” Harry grinned, remembering the conversation he’d overheard at the Three Broomsticks during his third year. He wasn’t allowed to go to Hogsmeade at the time, and he had snuck into the pub.

Harry couldn’t resist taking the motorcycle with him when he left Gringotts.

Wedding preparations devoured the majority of Harry’s time. Even though he was the best man, he left the bachelor party preparations to Fred and George, Ron’s twin older brothers. Together they owned a thriving joke shop, Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, and were legendary for their pranks. Harry felt confident they would plan something “memorable,” and they were eager for the job. However, Harry specified that the party would take place two nights before the wedding; he knew Fred and George well and didn’t think Hermione would be amused if her groom appeared at the ceremony in the form of a canary.

The bachelor party, while certainly unforgettable, was oddly canary-free. By the following afternoon, Ron and Harry were actually able to stand for the duration of the wizard marriage ceremony, a small affair held at the Ministry of Magic and witnessed only by the best man, the maid of honor, and both sets of parents.

The morning of the wedding dawned bright and fair. Harry couldn’t help thinking that Hermione was bossy enough to command Mother Nature to give her a sunny day for her wedding. However, Harry’s mood would have more closely matched a dark, drizzly rain. He dragged himself out of bed, showered, dressed, and spent the remainder of the morning staring at the television blankly.

Several hours later there was a pounding on the door. Harry pointed his wand and murmured, “Alohomora.” Remus appeared in the doorway, looking odd in a suit and tie instead of his usual wizarding robes.

“Ready to go?” Remus asked, looking a little puzzled to see Harry slouching on the sofa.

“Sure,” Harry slurred, dragging himself to his feet.

“Harry,” asked Remus incredulously, “have you been drinking?”

Harry waved an impatient hand. “Not much. And remember, I’ve got a lot of experience holding my liquor.”

“Harry, this is your best friends’ wedding! How could you do this to them?” Remus raised his wand to cast a sobriety charm, but Harry stopped him.

“No, Remus! Leave me alone! Don’t you see? There’s no way I can get through this wedding without my senses dulled!”

“Just because the two of them are finally doing something that doesn’t include you? You’re being selfish, Harry.” Remus stopped suddenly. “That’s not what this is about, is it? You ARE in love with her!”

Harry busied himself looking for the remote control and turning off the television. “Come on - we’ll be late.”

Remus sighed but didn’t move. “Harry, please don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

Harry shook his head and managed a small smile. “Don’t worry,” he said bitterly, “I’ll be a good boy.”

When they arrived, Harry was as good as his word. He plastered a smile on his face and went about his duties as best man, even stopping in before the ceremony to give a Hermione a peck on the cheek and tell her how beautiful she looked. Ron and Hermione were both anxious about the task at hand and didn’t notice Harry’s smile was a little too forced and his tone of voice a little too flat.

When it was time for Harry to march the maid of honor down the aisle, he couldn’t help thinking how much Ginny had changed. In her high heels, she was almost as tall as he. He noticed how her bridesmaid’s dress accented the womanly curves of her body; she was definitely not the little girl he had met seven years earlier. He grinned a little, thinking that Ron probably wouldn’t approve of his observations. Ginny caught his eye and smiled back.

They took their positions at the front and turned to watch Hermione walk down the aisle on her father’s arm. Harry braced himself for the sting of jealousy as Thomas Granger placed his daughter’s arm in Ron’s.

It never came.

He relaxed slowly as he realized he didn’t feel pain, sadness, or envy. Somehow, despite his feelings for Hermione, he knew this union was right. He couldn’t decipher his feelings; maybe it was the beauty of the setting, or Hermione’s angelic appearance, or the wonder in Ron’s eyes, but somehow, he was caught up in the magic of the moment. He felt only happiness for his two best friends.

All eyes were on the bride and groom as they took their vows, save two. Ginny couldn’t help watching Harry and thinking how handsome he looked in his tuxedo. She could see his eyes clearly from her vantage point, and the look in them took her breath away. She followed his gaze and felt something crumble within her as she realized who he was watching. She forced herself to focus on the happy couple for the remainder of the ceremony.

Later, when Harry rose to offer the first toast at the reception, two people watched him anxiously. They both knew of his feelings for Hermione and that the champagne was not his first drink of the evening. But Ginny and Remus relaxed as Harry began to speak:

“I can’t believe I lived to see the day my two best friends actually got married. Anyone who knows Ron and Hermione well would have thought their relationship would be more likely to end in homicide!” (There was a great deal of laughter and jeering at this comment.)

“But seriously, Ron, you were the first friend I ever had. Most people here know what my early childhood was like – I was not allowed to have friends. Ron, when I met you on the train to Hogwarts, my life changed forever. I suddenly had a friend, and later, a family in the Weasleys, after being denied love for ten long years. Ron, you’re my brother for life, and I love you!

“Hermione, how many people can say their friendship began because of an encounter with a mountain troll? I can’t imagine my life at Hogwarts without you. I know I couldn’t have … well … accomplished what I did without your help. Everyone knows you were the brains and the conscience behind our little group. What everyone doesn’t know is that you were also the heart and the peacemaker. Hermione, you’re my sister for life, and I love you!

“Ron and Hermione, in the eight years we’ve been friends, we’ve had enough adventure for a lifetime! I wish you a boring, monotonous life because I know that will seem heavenly after all we’ve been through together. Just kidding; seriously, I wish you happiness forever because you deserve it. To Ron and Hermione!”

At this, everyone raised their glasses and drank to the bride and groom. Neither Ginny nor Remus could think of anything to criticize in Harry’s speech. He was remarkably composed and sincere.

When Ginny had her obligatory dance with the best man, she kept her conversation and demeanor light. It felt wonderful to be in his arms, but she couldn’t forget what she had seen during the ceremony.

Remus watched Harry closely as they danced. He relaxed as he realized his young friend genuinely seemed to be having a good time, and the alcohol didn’t seem to be adversely affecting him - yet. He turned his attention to Harry’s partner and was surprised at the look in her eyes. He looked back at Harry and realized he was oblivious.

Remus continued to watch Harry and Ginny until the dance was over, then rose quickly, crossed the floor, and asked Ginny to dance. She seemed surprised but accepted as Harry went to get a drink. Remus asked Ginny to call him by his given name, and they exchanged a few pleasantries about the wedding.

Then Remus asked, “How much do you know about Harry’s disappearance?”

Ginny was a little taken aback at the sudden change to a serious subject, but she answered, “Not much … only that it was voluntary … he wasn’t kidnapped or anything. He only told us that he needed to get away for awhile after the war … to escape the press and such. But I know there’s more to it – I think it has something to do with killing Voldemort. He was so depressed and distant during his last year at Hogwarts –“ She broke off and glanced around, as if she was afraid someone would overhear.

Remus looked at her seriously. “Ginny,” he said quietly, “Harry has been through hell this past year. He really needs his friends to constantly assure him that he’s valued and loved.”

“Ron and Hermione –“ Ginny began.

“Ron and Hermione have been wonderful to him,” Remus interrupted, “but they really need to concentrate on their own relationship for now. Just be there for him, Ginny. Get him out and about every now and then. Stay involved in his life.”

Ginny looked at him, her expression curious. “Why are you saying this to me?”

Remus smiled. “Because you’re in love with him.”

Ginny’s eyes opened wide, and she drew in a deep breath. “A-am I so transparent? D-does he know?”

Remus laughed gently. “No, I think you hide it rather well. But when a fellow has no social life of his own, he tends to be more observant of others.”

Ginny was surprised at this comment. Even though Remus Lupin looked much older than his forty years, he was still very handsome. Ginny wondered whether she could have fancied Remus if she hadn’t been in love with Harry. She decided it was possible, except that it would probably be too “weird” dating a former teacher. She narrowed her eyes at him reproachfully and said, “What do you mean, you have no social life?”

“Well, the werewolf thing tends to get in the way.”

“Why should it?” she asked. Ginny, like most Hogwarts students and alumni, didn’t mind that Remus was a werewolf.

Remus grimaced. “Despite my acceptance at Hogwarts, most people have certain prejudices against a man who turns into a raging beast once a month.”

Ginny retorted, “Most women could say the same thing about themselves.”

Remus couldn’t help smiling. “As if I’ve never heard the PMS joke before,” he said sarcastically.

“Okay,” Ginny said in a challenging voice, “if you’re so observant, how does Harry feel about me?”

Remus hesitated but told the truth. “Friendship, genuine affection. But I don’t really think he’s capable of love yet. Just be patient and be around.”

“He’s in love with Hermione,” Ginny sighed.

“Now you’re being observant,” Remus commented.

“Well, it’s him.”

Remus smiled at Ginny. “Don’t worry about that – there’s obviously no future in it. I think Harry’s genuinely happy for Ron and Hermione, and he’ll get over her eventually.”

Ginny began looking around the room, anxious to change the subject. Remus watched her with interest until she seemed to find something. She said, “When we turn around, look at that woman to the left of the plant in the corner.”

Remus did so and noticed the woman looking away quickly, as if she’d been caught watching him. She was quite pretty, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Why?” he asked Ginny.

“She’s been watching us dance,” Ginny answered. “She’s thinking, ‘That man is really nice-looking, but that little teenager is too young for him.’”

Remus couldn’t help laughing. “Are you telling me I’m old?”

Ginny looked at him seriously. “No, you’re never too old, Remus.” Then she smiled again. “Now as soon as this dance is over, I want you to march over to that woman, tell her that I mean nothing to you, and that you want her to be the mother of your children.”

Remus had to struggle not to double over with mirth. “That’s quite a pick-up line!” he managed to choke out.

Ginny laughed too, then said, “Seriously, Remus, ask her to dance. She’s Hermione’s aunt, a Muggle, so she’s not likely to be prejudiced against werewolves.”

Remus considered; Ginny had a good point. But before he could make a decision, the song ended, and he found himself pushed toward the woman in the corner.

She was talking to another woman, but her eyes lit up as she saw him approaching. “Hello,” he said shyly, “I’m Remus Lupin.”

*********************************************************

Harry sat quietly in the corner, partially hidden by a large plant, trying to avoid being seen. He watched the couples dancing and slowly nursed his drink. The happiness he had felt during the ceremony had slowly disappeared during the reception.

He was startled when a voice broke into his melancholy musings. “Harry, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’d like to hear all about your trip. I’ve heard your official story, but I know you actually spent the time on an alien vessel. If you could tell me what truly happened, it would really help further my research.”

Harry looked up, amazed; when had Luna Lovegood sat down at his table? He stammered, “Well … no I … the story I told the press is true … I’ve never even seen an alien …”

Luna looked right into his eyes for a moment then shrugged and looked away. “Oh, well. I suppose it’s top secret, or else they modified your memory.”

Harry could only stare at her. He noticed she was wearing large, dangly, white bells for earrings. He smiled to himself as he remembered a day she had worn radish earrings to Herbology; in comparison, wearing bells to a wedding was oddly appropriate.

When he didn’t answer, Luna looked over at the dancing wedding guests and said, “My father keeps saying I should get married and settle down. But I’m afraid that would interfere with my search for life on other planets. Still, this wedding makes me wonder about it.” She looked intently at Harry and asked, “What do you think, Harry?”

The question was asked like a proposition, and Harry was again taken aback. “Er … I never … uh … really thought …”

Luna continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Of course, any children you and I had together would turn out to be Torbers. But that’s not an insurmountable problem.”

Harry had no idea what a Torber was, but the more pressing problem seemed to be to get away from Luna before he found himself engaged. He mumbled something about finding the loo and hurried away.

After a reasonable time had passed, Harry stole quietly out of the bathroom and down the hall. He touched the wand in his pocket and muttered, “Accio,” as he passed near the bar, caught something, and disappeared into an empty room.

**********************************************************************

The dark-haired woman rose and regarded Remus with interest. “Susan Chandler,” she said, “and this is Louise Granger.”

Remus nodded, looking briefly at Louise. “Of course – mother of the bride.” His eyes returned to Susan; he had to ask her before he lost his nerve. “Would you like to dance?”

Susan smiled shyly. “I would.”

Remus felt his heart pounding as they began to dance. He looked down into the sparkling blue eyes as he wondered what to say to her. I’ve got to say something or she’s going to think I’m stupid. Finally he came up with, “You must be related to Hermione.” Great, that sounded really lame. Couldn’t I have commented about her eyes?

But Susan smiled, seeming relieved he had broken the silence. “Yes,” she said, “Louise is my sister, so Hermione is my niece. My daughter, Sheila, is a bridesmaid. How do you know Hermione and Ron?”

Remus answered, “I taught them at Hogwarts, but we’ve developed a friendship since they left school. I guess I’m sort of a surrogate father to Harry, the best man.”

Susan’s eyes widened in interest. “So you’re a teacher. What do you teach?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Susan looked puzzled. “What is that exactly? Is it similar to what Ron’s studying?”

“Actually, yes. Ron turned out to be one of my best students in his year. He’s training to become an Auror – an expert in fighting Dark magic.”

“Sounds dangerous.” Susan’s eyebrows drew together as she said this.

Remus was enjoying watching the changing expressions on her face. He couldn’t decide which was most attractive. Come on, old boy, keep the conversation going – don’t get distracted! He said, “It is. That’s why it’s such an elite group – it was quite an honor for Ron to be accepted into the program.”

Susan seemed to consider this and then asked another question. “Have you always known you were a wizard, or were you born into a regu- I mean non-magic family like Hermione?”

Remus noticed she almost called Muggles “regular,” but he wasn’t offended. He answered, “My parents were a wizard and witch, so I’ve been surrounded by magic all my life. I’m curious – what did you think when you found out about Hermione?”

Susan laughed a little. “Well, I didn’t believe it at first. During Hermione’s first year at Hogwarts, Lou and Tom made up a story about her boarding school. But the next year I started talking about sending Sheila to the same school so they could be together. So they finally had to tell me the truth. Of course, since Hermione wasn’t allowed to do magic during holiday, they couldn’t prove it. So one day they took Sheila and me to that wizard shopping district in London.”

“Diagon Alley? That must have been quite an eye opener!”

Susan laughed. “It was actually quite frightening! I had never believed in magic of any kind. At first I thought I was cracking up. But once I got used to it and was able to relax, it was quite fun looking at all the strange sights.” Her expression sobered. “I’ve often wondered what I would have done if it had been Sheila.”

Remus understood what she meant. “I think it must take a lot of courage to send a child into such an unknown world. We occasionally send an acceptance letter to a Muggle-born child whose parents refuse to let them attend Hogwarts.”

“What happens to them?”

Remus shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess they grow up knowing they have special powers but not knowing how to use or control them.”

“That sounds even more frightening,” Susan reflected. Remus noted the wisdom of that statement and realized Susan must be a great mother.

Then the song was over, and they turned to clap for the band. The next tune was faster and not conducive to conversation. Remus was relieved when Susan suggested they get a drink. Good, she’s still interested. Guess I’d better enjoy it while it lasts – she’ll want to get away from me soon enough.

They found a small table that was somewhat secluded. This time, Remus found it easier to start a conversation; there was so much he wanted to know about her. “Tell me about yourself. Is Sheila your only child?”

“Yes. I was only married to her father for a short time.”

Remus was amazed that she was old enough to have a daughter in her late teens. “You must have been very young when you had her.”

Susan blushed, much to Remus’ pleasure. She said, “I was. I shouldn’t have married so young – neither of us was ready. But I can’t complain since I’ve got Sheila.”

Remus loved the way her eyes glowed when she mentioned her daughter. I’m already getting too attached – maybe I should quit while I’m enjoying myself. But he only said, “She seems like a wonderful girl.”

“What about you – do you have any children?”

Remus shook his head. “No, and I’ve never been married.”

Susan looked very intrigued by this. She said, “You mentioned you are sort of a father figure to Ron’s friend, Harry. What’s the story there?”

Remus warmed to this topic easily. “Well, his father and godfather were my best friends at Hogwarts and after. But James and Lily – Harry’s parents – were killed when he was only a year old, and his godfather, Sirius, was killed when he was fifteen. I went back to Hogwarts to teach right after that, and I tried to be there for him – to keep an eye on him. The Weasleys have looked out for him over the years, too, but they have seven kids of their own.”

Susan looked truly saddened at Harry’s story. “Wow, he’s had a rough time of it, hasn’t he?”

Remus answered, “With all he’s been through, it’s amazing what a great man he’s turned out to be. I know his friends have been the most sustaining factor – especially Ron and Hermione.”

“And you, Remus.” Susan smiled. “It’s obvious when you talk about him how much you love him.” She tilted her head and gazed at him with puzzled eyes. “It makes me wonder why you aren’t married with a bunch of kids of your own.”

Remus noted she wasn’t asking in a flirty way; she was genuinely bewildered, as if he was quite a catch. Me? If she only knew, she’d run out of here screaming. But I can’t tell her now – I’m having too much fun! He quickly changed the subject. “What do you do for a living?”

As she launched into a description of her accounting job with a Muggle bank, Remus found he was only half listening. The struggle between his heart and head was raging too loudly. I need to tell her NOW, before this goes any further. No, I’m enjoying myself – I deserve to have some fun once in awhile. But I want to see her again after tonight, and I can’t do that under false pretenses. I could just enjoy tonight and never see her again. No, I don’t think I could do that; I’m really starting to like her. I should at least give her the chance to reject me, who knows, she might not. Of course she’ll reject me. No one else has wanted to date me; why should she be any different?

Finally, his head won the argument. When she paused, he took a deep breath. “Susan, I’m very interested in getting to know you better. I’d like to see you again – after tonight.”

He couldn’t help smiling at the happiness in her eyes. She said, “Good. I’d like to see you again, too.”

Remus reached out as if to take her hand but then restrained himself. He said, “But there’s something I’ve got to tell you up front. If you’d rather not see me again, I’ll understand.”

Susan looked bewildered. “Were you lying about being married? Are you a criminal?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Is this your way of getting rid of me?”

Remus quickly protested, “No, I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much. And I don’t think I’ve ever been so attracted to a woman. I want nothing more than to see you again.” He was surprised at his outburst and blushed.

She blushed too, obviously flattered, but still looked puzzled. “What is it, then?”

Remus sighed. “I-I’m a werewolf.”

“A werewolf? But they don’t really exist!”

Remus smiled slightly. “I assure you, we do, although we are very rare. Remember, a few years ago, magic didn’t exist for you, either.”

He noticed she didn’t look horrified, only curious. She asked, “Well, what exactly does that mean? You look perfectly normal to me.”

“I am normal – most of the time. Every month, on the night of the full moon, I turn into a wolf.”

Her eyes widened. “Just like the legends. It sounds dangerous – is it painful?”

“I’m actually not dangerous if I take a certain potion; I just curl up harmlessly in my room and wait for it to pass. However, the change is very painful, and I’m exhausted for a couple of days afterwards.”

“What if you don’t take the potion?”

“Well, I always do, but if I didn’t I would be … er … very dangerous to others.”

“How so?” she asked. Remus noticed she didn’t look remotely frightened, only interested.

He sighed as he answered, “A werewolf has a very strong desire to bite other humans. Anyone bitten will become a werewolf, too. I was bitten as a small child.”

Susan considered Remus for a long moment. He wished he could interpret the look on her face.

Finally she said, “That girl you were dancing with earlier – the maid of honor – does she know you’re a werewolf?”

Remus was a little puzzled at that question, but he answered, “Yes, she’s a former student. Everyone at Hogwarts knows I’m a werewolf. So do most of the wizards and witches here tonight.”

Susan nodded once and looked satisfied. “Well, none of them appear to be frightened of you, so why should I be? Are werewolves more dangerous to non-magic people than wizards?”

Remus looked at her in amazement, hope dawning in his heart. He said, “No, but a lot of people have certain … er … prejudices against werewolves. We’re usually considered Dark creatures.”

Susan smiled. “Well that seems a little silly since you teach how to fight against dark things, don’t you?”

Remus grinned broadly. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

Susan laughed a little. “Well, Remus Lupin, you haven’t given me a good reason not to go out with you.”

She still wants to see me! This is unbelievable! Remus reached out to take her hand and didn’t stop himself this time. He looked into her eyes and said softly, “Susan, will you have dinner with me tomorrow evening?”

*********************************************************************

After her dance with Remus Lupin, Ginny Weasley had no lack of partners. She was enjoying herself thoroughly with her brothers, old Hogwarts friends, and a few of Hermione’s relatives. But she couldn’t help keeping an eye on the dark haired wizard sitting in the corner, seemingly trying to hide.

She noticed he was gone at the end of a particularly fervent dance with her brother George, so she excused herself and went to look for Harry.

She found him in an empty classroom. He was sitting in a child-size chair with a glass and half-empty bottle in front of him. He looked up as she walked in and slurred, “Hi, Ginny. Whatcha doin’?” He pulled himself to his feet, struggling out of the tiny chair.

She didn’t know how to answer that; she didn’t want to admit she’d been looking for him, so she mumbled something about the bathroom.

He took a step toward her and said, “Thanks for walkin’ me down the aisle, Ginny.”

“No problem.” She grinned. But then her expression turned serious. “You started drinking before the wedding, didn’t you?”

Harry looked a little worried. “Do you think anyone else noticed?”

Ginny was a little exasperated, but she admitted, “No, I don’t. But Harry – why? Why would you do that to Ron and Hermione?”

Harry looked down. “It’s not been a picnic, being back. Everyone’s got so many questions all the time – it’s like constantly being at a press conference.”

Ginny studied him closely; he was still avoiding her eyes. She said it before she could help herself. “That’s not it. I’ve seen the way you look at her, but I didn’t want to believe it. You’re in love with Hermione.”

Ginny could see Harry getting angry, but he still avoided her eyes. He said, “What is it with you all – first the press, then Remus, now you! I am not in love with Hermione Granger, and I’ll prove it to you!”

At that, he crossed the floor in two long strides, grabbed Ginny around the waist, and kissed her hard.

Ginny started to resist but found herself melting into the kiss. Her arms went around his neck before she could stop them. She had waited so long for this. Harry was finally noticing her – he was kissing her! But … it wasn’t right … he was kissing her out of anger … and he was…

She suddenly pushed him away. “Harry, stop it! You’re drunk!”

He stumbled back and looked at her with a mixture of horror and shock. He stammered, “I’m sorry … I can’t believe I did that … I MUST be drunk …” 

Ginny took one look at Harry’s face and ran from the room. She heard him calling behind her but didn’t turn back.

************************************

WHAT WAS THAT??

Harry watched Ginny run from the room with a mixture of horror and shock. Horror because he hated himself for hurting Ginny, who was like a sister to him. Shock because…

He was drunk, but not so drunk that he failed to feel the electric shock that went through his body when he kissed Ginny. Not so drunk that he failed to recognize it for what it was – attraction.

This can’t be happening – I can’t be attracted to Ginny. She could never love someone like me – she can do so much better.

So he took care of his raging thoughts and feelings in the best way he knew how. But this time he didn’t bother with the glass.

**************************************

Ginny opened the stall and peeked around to be sure no one else was in the bathroom. She went to the mirror and pulled out her wand to remove all traces of crying from her face. Then she conjured a brush and ran it through her hair.

As she worked, she thought about that brief, joyous moment when she realized Harry was kissing her. Then tears threatened again as she remembered how much he regretted it. No, I can’t let it get to me! Now I know how Harry feels about me - I’ll never be more than a sister to him. Well, I’m finished pining after him. I’m done with Harry Potter!

She squared her shoulders and marched determinedly back to the reception.

Ginny walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. As she waited for it, she looked around the room and noticed Remus talking to Hermione’s aunt in the corner. She smiled a little – had they been talking all this time? The sight of Remus caused a twinge of guilt as she remembered what he had told her about Harry needing the support of his friends, so she reluctantly approached the table.

******************************

Susan couldn’t remember the last time she had been so intrigued by a man. Not only was Remus Lupin handsome, but it was interesting to hear about the magical world. He also seemed to be a decent human being who genuinely cared about his friends and his students. She was puzzled that he seemed to think the werewolf thing was such an obstacle. To her, it just seemed similar to dating someone of a different nationality or religion. She would just have to avoid him a couple of days each month, which wasn’t an insurmountable problem.

Susan was so captivated by Remus’s eyes that she was genuinely annoyed when Ginny Weasley approached the table, apologized for interrupting, and whispered something to him. She watched the starry look in his eyes change slowly to concern.

“What did he say to you?” he asked Ginny crossly.

“Not much, really,” Ginny said, avoiding his eyes, “It’s okay.”

Remus didn’t press her. He turned to Susan and said, “I need to take Harry home – he’s not feeling well.”

Susan narrowed her eyes shrewdly. “Is he drunk?”

Remus looked a little surprised at her insight. “Actually, yes. He’s had a rough year – I think he’s just had enough tonight.”

Susan was disappointed that he was leaving but couldn’t help admiring his dedication to his young friend.

As Remus was standing, he said, “Write down your address for me. I’ll contact you tomorrow about dinner – okay?”

Susan smiled; there was always tomorrow.

********************************

Ginny had had enough of the reception, but as maid of honor, she didn’t feel she could leave until after the bride and groom, especially now that the best man had left. She stood near the bar and nursed a drink, scowling at the dancing couples.

A voice behind her said, “Ginny Weasley, it’s good to see you!”

She turned to face Neville Longbottom, a fellow Gryffindor from Hogwarts. She hadn’t seen him since he had left school a year before her. She noticed his face had lost some of its roundness, as well as his body. He actually looked quite handsome in his Muggle suit and tie. She smiled and answered, “Neville! What have you been up to?”

As he enthusiastically launched into a description of his apprenticeship in Herbology, she noticed he talked and carried himself with much more confidence than she remembered. Ginny told him about her job at Gringotts, and then he surprised her by asking her to dance. She hesitated briefly, remembering how he had stepped on her feet at the Yule Ball during her third year. But she accepted because she was intrigued by the handsome, confident man Neville had become.

As they began to dance, Neville said confidentially, “You know, you just rescued me.”

Ginny was bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think Luna Lovegood proposed marriage to me a few minutes ago.”

Ginny couldn’t help laughing. Luna had been a friend of hers at Hogwarts, but she was a little “different.” She said, “So should I congratulate you?”

Now Neville laughed. “Er … no.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes teasingly. “So you’re telling me you only asked me to dance so you could get away from Luna?”

Neville looked at her seriously. “No. Actually, I’ve been trying to get the nerve to talk to you all evening. You know, I really had a crush on you at Hogwarts, but you always seemed to be dating someone.”

Ginny was surprised at this revelation. “You did?” she asked rather stupidly.

“Yes,” he replied, “especially during my fourth year, when we went to that Yule Ball.”

“But I thought you just asked me to that because Hermione couldn’t go with you.”

“Well … yeah … at first. But you looked so … er … beautiful that night …”

Ginny couldn’t help blushing.

Neville continued, his voice gaining confidence, “You know you look even more beautiful tonight.”

Ginny smiled up at him, flattered. This was exactly what she needed after her run-in with Harry. It felt very nice to be appreciated.

Neville, encouraged by her smile, asked shyly, “Are you dating someone now? I mean, would you be available if I wanted to ask you to dinner? I mean, I do want to ask you to dinner …”

Ginny laughed and said, “Neville, I’d love to go to dinner with you.” And she was surprised to realize it was the truth.

As they finished their dance, Ginny realized he hadn’t stepped on her foot a single time.

*********************************

Susan slipped into the dressing room as Hermione was changing into her traveling clothes. She hated to bother Hermione on her wedding day, but she wasn’t sure when she would see her again, and her niece was her only connection to the wizarding world.

She waited until Louise Granger was a short distance away, fussing with Hermione’s dress, and asked softly, “Hermione, what’s Remus Lupin like?”

“Why?” Hermione asked with some surprise. Then she looked up and saw the look in her aunt’s eyes. “Oh, you fancy him, do you? Well, he’s a wonderful man. Gentle, kind, a very encouraging teacher. He’s been great to Harry – just like a father.”

Hermione said this very sincerely, but Susan noticed a bit of worry in her niece’s eyes, so she said, “He told me he’s a werewolf.”

Hermione looked relieved and a little surprised. “He must really like you, then.”

“We’re going out to dinner tomorrow night.”

Hermione was astonished. “I’ve never known him to date. I was beginning to wonder … never mind.”

“He seemed to think being werewolf would prevent me from wanting to see him again. Is it really that big of a deal?”

Hermione considered. “I think he’s suffered so much rejection in his life that he just expects it. He’s always seemed surprised when people have accepted him. It’s hard for me to understand the prejudices against werewolves since I didn’t grow up in the wizarding world. But I know Remus had to keep it a secret when he was a student at Hogwarts for fear that the other parents would pull their kids out of school. He also kept it a secret his first year teaching at Hogwarts, and ended up having to resign when people found out. He’s only teaching there now because when he was rehired three years ago, the wizarding world was in the middle of a war, and Headmaster Dumbledore managed to convince most of the parents that Remus was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher available. A few still wouldn’t send their children to Hogwarts because of him.” Hermione paused and then said, “I’ve never really thought about it before, but I’ll bet that’s why he doesn’t date much.”

Susan pondered Hermione’s words and commented, “It sounds like Remus has had a hard time of it. But he doesn’t seem bitter at all.”

Just then, Louise Granger interrupted, “What are you two whispering about over here? Hermione, you’d better hurry – I’m sure Ron’s waiting impatiently.”

Hermione blushed a little and told her mother, “Susan’s going out with one of my former teachers. I’m excited for her – he’s a wonderful man.”

Louise was nonplussed. “Susan … you’re going out with a … a wizard?”

“Don’t act so shocked,” Susan laughed. “I haven’t had any luck dating in the non-magic world, so why not try someone magical?”

Hermione finished dressing quickly as she and her mother teased Susan lightly. They were all three giggling when Hermione hugged them goodbye and left with her husband.


	4. Falling

Susan Chandler was sitting at the kitchen table absorbed in her cup of coffee, when she was startled by a tapping at the window. She was staring at the window when Sheila walked in, headed for the coffee pot.

“What’s that racket?” Sheila grumbled.

“There’s an owl tapping on the window,” Susan said, looking puzzled.

Sheila stared for a minute and then nodded in understanding. “Hermione told me that witches and wizards use owls to deliver mail. Look! It’s got something attached to its leg.”

Susan opened the window, and the snowy white owl swooped gracefully inside. Sheila ducked as it flew over her head, landed on the back of a chair, and hooted once. Susan looked at her daughter and asked, “Do you think we should look at the paper?”

 

“I guess,” said Sheila, “although I don’t know who would be contacting us like this. Hermione always uses the telephone.”

Susan’s eyes widened in comprehension. She reached for the owl, stammering, “I’ll get it.” She removed the note, read it, and stuffed it into her pocket.

“Well, what is it?” Sheila demanded. Then she caught the look on her mother’s face. “Mother, are you blushing?”

Susan sighed. Sheila would find out that evening anyway. “It’s from a man called Remus Lupin. I met him at the wedding, and we’re going to dinner tonight.”

Sheila was astonished; her mother didn’t date often. “Is that the man I saw you talking to last night? Silver hair? Is he … is he a wizard, Mum?”

“Yes.” Susan resumed her place at the table, avoiding her daughter’s eyes. “He seems like a really nice man, and Hermione knows him well. He teaches at her old boarding school.”

Sheila was intrigued. It seemed so out of character for her mother to meet someone and agree to a date the very next day. She sat down across from Susan and asked, “What’s he like? You’re obviously very interested.”

Susan found herself warming to the subject of Remus Lupin now that it seemed Sheila wasn’t going to disapprove. She told Sheila all about their dance and long conversation, carefully leaving out the part about werewolves. That was Remus’s secret, and she wanted to leave it to him to decide whether to share it.

“Why were you hiding the note, Mum?” Sheila asked when Susan paused. “I can tell you’re excited about seeing him tonight.”

Susan confessed, “I wasn’t sure how you would react to me going on a date – it’s been so long.”

”Don’t be silly. I’m really excited for you! You deserve it. I’m dying to meet the man who has caught your fancy. A wizard – wow! Is he coming here to pick you up?”

Susan nodded and handed her the note. Sheila read:

Susan,

I really enjoyed talking with you last night and am looking forward to seeing you this evening. Can I pick you up at five p.m. at your flat? Send your answer back with Hedwig (the owl).

Remus

“He sounds really nice, Mum. I wonder why he’s picking you up so early.”

Susan shrugged and blushed again. “I don’t know, but we don’t really have anything else going on today, do we?”

Sheila’s eyes twinkled. “You’d better answer him.”

“Oh … yes,” Susan stammered and reddened further. She grabbed a notepad and dashed off a note. Sheila’s eyes widened in amazement as her giggling mother tried to figure out how to attach the note to the owl’s leg. When she finally succeeded, she asked, “Now, what do I do?”

Sheila said, “I don’t know. Do we just tell it to go, or do we have to take it outside?”

Susan looked at the owl. “Can you take this note to Remus Lupin for me?” she asked, feeling foolish.

The owl hooted, as if answering, and soared elegantly out the window. Susan and Sheila stared at the open window after the owl disappeared. Sheila broke the silence. “That was weird.”

Susan didn’t seem to hear. She said quietly, as if to herself, “Well, it found its way here, so surely it can find its way home.” She smiled as she wondered what surprises were in store on a date with a man who used an owl to communicate.

******************************************************

Harry moaned as the tapping on his bedroom window woke him from a drunken sleep. He forced his eyes open. “Hedwig?” Hedwig continued to peck, so Harry struggled out of bed with a groan. “All right! All right! I’m coming!”

He let Hedwig in, and she landed on his shoulder. He stroked her gently for a moment. Harry was glad she had finally forgiven him for leaving her at Hogwarts; she’d refused to go near him for two weeks. But when he tried to remove the paper, she hooted and moved her leg away from his hand. “What’s the deal? I thought you weren’t mad at me anymore.”

“You’re up,” said a voice from the doorway.

Harry started. “What are you doing here?”

“You don’t remember, do you?” Remus grimaced and began studying his shoes. “You had a little too much to drink at the reception last night. I brought you home and kipped on your couch.” He looked up as Hedwig flew to him, settled on his shoulder, and held out her leg.

“Oh, nice,” said Harry, “you’ll let him have the letter, but not me.”

Remus looked at the envelope. “It’s addressed to me, mate. It’s a reply to a note I sent this morning.”

“Why is it written on paper instead of parchment?” Harry asked.

Remus couldn’t help smiling. “Because it’s from a Muggle.” He changed the subject quickly. “How do you feel this morning?”

“Horrible,” Harry replied. “Do you have any of that hangover potion?”

“No, but I’ve got some strong coffee going.”

“Can we owl Snape for some?” It was a mark of how awful Harry felt to be willing to ask Snape for anything.

Remus shook his head. “Believe me, you don’t want to be indebted to him. Besides, you know the way to prevent this from happening in the first place, Harry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” mumbled Harry.

Remus decided not to push it. He didn’t need Harry to be angry with him today; he had a favor to ask of him later.

********************************************

Susan answered the door at five o’clock sharp. Remus smiled and handed her a perfect red rose. “Good evening,” he said.

“Hi,” she said, blushing and taking the rose. “Come in.”

As he entered the flat, Remus addressed the young woman standing behind Susan. “You must be Sheila. I don’t think we met last night.”

While Remus and Sheila exchanged small talk, Susan took the opportunity to assess Remus’s appearance. After much deliberation, Susan had dressed simply in navy slacks and a white silk blouse. She was pleased to see Remus clad similarly in black slacks and a grey jumper that perfectly matched his hair.

After a few moments, Remus said, “Shall we?”

He turned to open the door. Sheila gave Susan the thumbs-up and mouthed, “Wow, Mom!”

As they walked out the door, Remus stammered, “Er … I hope you don’t mind riding the motorcycle … I don’t have a car.”

Susan had never ridden a motorcycle in her life and was very ill at ease. To stall for time, she asked, “How do you normally get around?”

“I Apparate. Most wizards and witches have the ability to instantly transport themselves.”

Susan was bewildered. “You mean you can just disappear and then reappear at another place?”

“Essentially, yes,” said Remus, “but since you can’t Apparate, we’ll have to be a little more conventional.” He noticed her wide eyes and said, “Don’t worry, the motorcycle has been charmed so it’s impossible to fall off. And I’m a very careful driver.” 

Susan wasn’t sure if it made her feel more or less at ease to hear that the motorcycle had been magically enhanced, but she nodded and got on behind Remus. As they started, she gripped him tightly around the waist but was able to relax bit by bit as they made their way into central London. It was obvious he was driving slowly to ease her fears, and she appreciated his thoughtfulness. She actually began to enjoy the ride; it was exhilarating feeling the breeze in her hair and watching the buildings slip by.

They stopped in front of a book shop. Remus dismounted, grabbed a bundle from the bike, and held her hand while she climbed off. Then, looking around to be sure no one was watching, he pulled a wooden stick from his pocket and muttered something over the motorcycle. Susan realized it was a magic wand as he stuffed it quickly into his pocket.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“Anti-theft,” he whispered. “I borrowed the bike from Harry – it belonged to his godfather - I’d feel horrible if anything happened to it.” He took her elbow and steered her to the wall the book shop shared with the record store beside it. Susan stared as he reached for the bare wall. All of a sudden, a door appeared, then a pub. Susan gasped, and then realized she had seen this place before.

“This is the entrance to that magical shopping place, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Diagon Alley. You don’t mind, do you? I got the impression you enjoyed it when you came with Hermione.”

Susan smiled. “Oh, yes – I mean, no – I mean – I don’t mind – I did enjoy it before,” she stammered, realizing she would have gone almost anywhere to spend time with this man.

Remus led her through the Leaky Cauldron and out the back door. He let go of her elbow for a moment and unrolled the bundle he was carrying. It was a black robe. He pulled out his wand, muttered something, and put the robe on over his clothes. Susan was amazed; even though the robe had been rolled up, there were no visible wrinkles. An ironing spell?

Remus pointed his wand at the wall and stepped back while the bricks rearranged themselves into an arch. Even though Susan had seen this once before, it was still fascinating to watch. Remus took her arm again, and they walked into Diagon Alley. She couldn’t help turning her head from side to side, like a small child trying to see everything at once. As she did so, she noticed many people gawking at her. She suddenly felt self-conscious, realizing that she was dressed very different from everyone else.

Remus stopped outside a shop and said, “Susan, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to buy you something that should make you feel more comfortable here.”

Susan was intrigued. “What’s that?”

Remus shifted uncomfortably and beckoned her into the shop. “A robe,” he admitted. “I know it seems a little strange for a first date, but I thought it would keep you from feeling conspicuous.”

Susan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not embarrassed to be seen with a – what are we called? Moodles? Mubbles?”

“Muggles.”

“Right,” she said, and started again. “You’re not embarrassed to be seen with a Muggle, are you?”

“Oh, no,” he assured her, “not at all. I just thought you might be more comfortable dressed as a witch tonight.”

Susan realized he was only thinking of her feelings. “You’re right. I really don’t like to stand out. I appreciate the thought. But you don’t have to …”

“I want to,” Remus cut in with a shy smile. “I’m hoping you’ll have more occasions to wear it.”

Susan was filled with pleasure as she realized that he was already hinting about future dates. She quietly consented as Madam Malkin breezed up to take her measurements.

Forty-five minutes later, Susan and Remus emerged from Madam Malkin’s. Susan was now dressed in an elegant blue robe. She had suggested they buy basic black, like his, but he insisted on the color, saying it brought out her eyes.

The sun set as they strolled the streets of Diagon Alley. Remus described what was sold in each of the shops they passed. Susan was particularly interested in Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, since it was owned by Ron’s brothers. They went in and had a brief chat with George. Susan got a fright when George talked Remus into trying a new product; a liquid which caused the drinker’s ears to burst into flame. The effects were short-lived, however, and Remus assured her it didn’t hurt.

As dusk settled, Remus steered Susan into a restaurant. Wonderful aromas filled the air, and she suddenly realized she was famished. She was having so much fun she had forgotten about dinner. An arrogant-looking wizard seated them at a small table, and they pondered their menus.

Remus broke the silence. “When you decide what you want to drink, just tell your glass. Same with your food, except tell your plate.”

Susan stared at Remus, and he broke into a wide grin. “Really,” he said. “Watch.” He said, “Red wine,” to his glass, and it filled quickly. “Try it.”

Susan couldn’t help giggling as she ordered her dinner. As they ate, she asked him about his childhood and was rewarded with many hilarious stories about the shenanigans he and his friends had organized at Hogwarts. She was surprised to hear he had been such a prankster in school, and she couldn’t help being saddened that his three best friends were dead. She wanted to ask about the events that had claimed their lives but sensed it would be a difficult topic.

She was so enthralled with his stories that she only picked at her food. She finally realized it was cold and said, “Well, I think I’m finished with this,” and was startled when the plate emptied and was left perfectly clean.

Remus laughed at her reaction. “Ready for the next customer. I’m finished, too. Would you like to get some dessert?”

They walked across the street to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, ordered ice cream cones, and ambled along the streets of the now sleeping shopping district. Susan felt like a teenager walking hand in hand with Remus in the moonlight and eating her double dip chocolate fudge.

When they finished their ice cream, they sat on a bench, and Susan told Remus about her school experiences and her decision to become an accountant. But the longer she talked, the harder it was to concentrate. He had his arm draped behind her along the back of the bench, and he was sitting so close. The look in his eyes was intoxicating. If he would only move his face a little closer …

Remus seemed to sense her lack of focus, but he must have interpreted it as fatigue, because his expression changed to concern, and he said, “It’s getting late – I should take you home.”

But he didn’t move, just continued to stare into her eyes with that look. Then he slowly leaned forward, until his face was just inches from hers …

… and stood up suddenly. Susan was bewildered; she was sure he was going to kiss her. But he only said, “We should go – the Leaky Cauldron can get a little rough late at night.”

When they arrived at Susan’s flat, Remus dismounted the motorbike, held out his hand to help Susan off, and walked her to the door. He turned and gazed at her in the moonlight.

Susan finally broke the silence. “Thank you for an amazing evening,” she whispered.

Remus answered, “Thank you for going. I really enjoyed it.”

Susan’s stomach fluttered at the look in his eyes. Remus reached up with his free hand and brushed a strand of black hair out of her eyes, letting his hand softly caress her face and settle on her shoulder. She shivered at his touch and watched as the look in his eyes changed, as if he was fighting a mental battle.

He suddenly let go of her hand and stepped back, stammering, “C-can I contact you tomorrow?”

She was a little startled but answered, “Please do.”

She watched as his silent struggle continued, wondering what it meant. Surely he’s not too shy to kiss me? But he only said, “Well … goodnight.”

Susan couldn’t stand it anymore. Before he could turn around, she stretched up and kissed him lightly on the lips. Remus looked startled, but then he smiled and leaned in for another kiss. Encouraged, Susan put her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Remus responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. When they finally stopped, Susan was out of breath, and she could see a flush on Remus’s face. He gazed at her for a few moments and then reluctantly let her go. He kissed her lightly, whispered, “I’ll owl you tomorrow,” and left.

Susan let herself in and was immediately accosted by Sheila, who was sitting on the sofa watching television. “Did you have fun? What’s he like? Are you going to see him again? Why didn’t he come in?”

Susan couldn’t help giggling; she was absolutely giddy. She tried to answer all the questions in turn. “I had a fabulous time. He’s wonderful. Yes, I think so; he’s going to owl me tomorrow. I didn’t ask him in because I figured you were still up.”

“Did he kiss you goodnight?”

Susan blushed furiously. “SHEILA CHANDLER!”

Sheila’s grin widened. “He did, didn’t he?”

Susan giggled. “That’s none of your business, young lady!”

“Mum, I’m so excited for you – he seems really nice. Where did he take you?”

Susan launched into a description of the wonders of Diagon Alley.

*****************************************************

Remus knocked on Harry’s door and entered as it opened. Harry was slouched on the sofa, drinking a bottle of butterbeer and watching the Muggle television. Remus was amused that Harry liked the thing so much; it seemed like nonsense to him.

“Thanks for the motorcycle,” Remus said as he tossed the keys onto the coffee table.

Harry waved a dismissive hand and asked, “How’d it go?”

Remus smiled. How could he describe such an amazing evening? “Okay,” he said, and then changed his mind, “Good, actually.”

Harry looked up at him and turned off the TV with his wand. “Are you going to see her again?”

Remus felt himself redden and watched Harry’s eyes widen in amazement. “As soon as possible,” he said quietly, “but it might be awhile. Term starts this week, and next Saturday is the full moon.”

“That’s only a couple of weeks.”

“Too long.”

Harry laughed. “What?” Remus demanded.

“It’s just that I’ve never seen you like this. Remus Lupin, smitten!”

Remus couldn’t help being amused at Harry’s teasing; he figured he deserved it since he was blushing like a schoolboy. Besides, it felt nice to finally be on the receiving end of it.

“How did she like the motorcycle?” Harry asked.

Remus’s expression clouded. “I don’t think she did. She didn’t say anything, but she seemed a bit skittish.”

Suddenly, Remus didn’t feel like talking about his evening any more. He made his excuses, thanked Harry again for the bike, and left.

Harry stared at the door for some time, lost in thought. He couldn’t help feeling glad for his friend; he certainly deserved some happiness. Harry had never dated a Muggle before, but since he had grown up with Muggles, he could imagine the complications with transportation. Hogwarts was far from London, and only one of them could Apparate.

An idea began to form in his mind, and he grinned to himself as it took shape.

***************************************

Susan was awakened from a lovely dream of her first kiss with Remus by the insistent ringing of the telephone. She blindly groped her nightstand until she found the receiver. “Hello?” she croaked.

“You awake?” said her sister’s perky voice.

Susan groaned. “No! What’s going on, Lou?”

“Sorry. I couldn’t stand it – I just had to call before church. How was your date?”

Susan was suddenly wide awake. She had forgotten Louise knew about her dinner with Remus. “It was fabulous,” she gushed. “He’s a wonderful man.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I think so. I want to. He’s supposed to contact me today.”

“Did he kiss you goodnight?”

“Louise Granger! You’re as bad as Sheila! Why does everybody want to know that, anyway? It’s personal.”

Louise pondered for a moment. “I guess it’s a good indication of how much you liked each other. So did he?”

Susan could tell her sister what she couldn’t bring herself to tell her daughter. “Well … actually … he seemed really shy about it … so …”

Susan heard her sister draw in a sharp breath. “YOU kissed HIM?” she asked, sounding scandalized. “Susan Chandler, I had no idea you were so forward!”

“Well … I could tell he wanted to … and he was going to leave…”

Louise laughed. “Susan, I’m just giving you a hard time. He sounds great! Tell me all about him! Where did you go?”

Susan sighed in resignation, knowing she’d never have peace until Louise knew every detail of the date. “Look, why don’t you and Tom stop by after church, and I’ll tell you all about it – we can have an early lunch.”

Louise agreed, and they rang off.

*******************************************

Remus didn’t sleep well; at five a.m. he finally gave up and started working on lesson plans.

Six a.m. – Remus gave up trying to concentrate on lesson plans and rose to pace his office.

Six-thirty a.m. – Remus sat down at his desk to work on lesson plans again.

Seven a.m. – Gave up on lesson plans and went to the staffroom for breakfast with the other teachers.

Seven-thirty a.m. – Lesson plans again.

Seven-forty-five a.m. – Gave up on getting any planning done at all and started a letter to Susan.

Eight-thirty a.m. – Remus looked at the wastebasket overflowing with parchment and realized that even after thirty-seven attempts, he still had no idea what to say to Susan. He got up suddenly, walked out of the castle, and Disapparated as soon as he left school grounds.

******************************************

Susan was stretching after her morning run when she heard the knock at the door. She wondered who would be calling so early on a Sunday but was very pleased when she opened the door. “Remus! What are you doing here? Come in!”

“I’m sorry … if you’re busy … that’s okay. I just thought I’d see what you were up to.”

Susan thought she might burst at the thrill of seeing him again so soon. Especially after the wonderful dreams she’d had…

But she only said, “Come in – I’ve just made some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

She took his hand and led him into the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee, and sat down at the small kitchen table. He took a seat across from her and gazed into her eyes. She felt her stomach doing flip flops. 

“So what brings you to London this Sunday morning?”

“I was going to make up some excuse for ‘just being in the neighborhood,’ but the truth is that I just wanted to see you again. I hope I’m not being too forward.”

Susan smiled with delight. “I don’t think so. I might have gone to see you if I had known where to look. Where is Hogwarts, anyway?”

“It’s in Scotland, near an all-wizarding village called Hogsmeade. But you’d never find Hogwarts – it’s invisible to Muggles.”

“You came all the way to London from Scotland this morning?”

“Remember, I can Apparate.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” She took both of his hands in hers. “I really wanted to tell you again how much I enjoyed last night. But I don’t know how to contact you. Do you have a telephone at Hogwarts?”

Remus sighed. “No. Wizards use fireplaces in a similar fashion, but it’s illegal to connect Muggle-owned fireplaces to the Network. I was going to send you an owl this morning, but I couldn’t figure out how to word the note. I really wanted to talk to you. I hope it was okay for me to come here this morning.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No … well, yes … well, term starts tomorrow, and it’s going to be impossible for me to get away from Hogwarts on weekdays while school is in session. I can’t see you next weekend, because the full moon is Saturday, so I can’t see you for the next two weeks. I didn’t want to tell you that in a note, because I was afraid you would think I just didn’t want to see you again. But the truth is that I just don’t know how I’m going to get through the next two weeks without seeing you. And I didn’t want to put that in a letter because I didn’t want to scare you off by sounding desperate. Of course, I probably do anyway.”

Susan ignored everything Remus had just said except the bit about how badly he was going to miss her. She felt as if she would float away. She got up without letting go of his hands, walked around the table, and pulled him to his feet. They melted into a passionate kiss. When they finally pulled away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. The scent of his robe made her think of an old house, but it wasn’t unpleasant. “Remus Lupin, I think I’m falling in love with you,” she whispered before she realized she was saying it. She was appalled at herself; she had only met the man two days earlier.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes and asked, “Is that what this is? I’ve never felt this way before.” He kissed her again.

They broke apart suddenly when they heard footsteps on the kitchen floor. Sheila laughed and said, “Don’t mind me – carry on.” Remus and Susan quickly untangled themselves as Sheila poured a cup of coffee. “Good to see you again, Remus.”

“I just stopped by … to … to …” Remus stammered.

Sheila laughed. “Yes, I can see that.”

Susan changed the subject by asking, “Sheila, what time are you leaving for school?”

“Around two or three. Why?”

“Lou and Tom are stopping by after church for lunch.”

“Okay, I’ll hang around.”

Remus blushed. “I’m sorry; you have plans. You probably have a lot to do …”

“Please stay, Remus,” Susan cut in. “This is nothing formal; we just arranged it this morning. I know Lou and Tom would like to see you again.”

Sheila interjected, “Yeah, I’ll bet Aunt Lou is very curious about you.”

“SHEILA!” shouted Susan.

Sheila ran out the door before her mother could get revenge.

Susan turned to Remus, who was looking very uncomfortable. She felt angry with Sheila for teasing, but she forced her voice to be calm. “Remus, please don’t go. You just got here.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not,” she insisted. “Besides, I need help fixing lunch. Sheila’s hopeless in the kitchen.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

“A guess?”

Remus turned out to be very helpful in the kitchen, probably because of all the years he had lived alone. He peeled carrots and potatoes and set the table for five. It felt so natural, working together in the kitchen and chatting.

When the roast was in the oven, Susan turned to Remus. “Now I’ve got to get in the shower – do you mind? You can watch the television or something.”

“Actually,” said Remus, “I need to run an errand. I’ll be back in about forty-five minutes, okay?”

“That’s perfect,” Susan smiled. “Lou and Tom will be here about then.” She kissed him lightly before he Disapparated.

******************************************

When Remus returned, Susan was dumbfounded. “What on earth …?”

Remus grinned. “It’s an owl. It’s for you – so we can communicate more easily.”

Susan was overwhelmed. “Remus … you got this for me … this is wonderful … but I don’t know anything about owls …”

“You’ll be fine. Owls are very intelligent and easy to care for.” He briefly described basic owl care then opened the cage and gently removed the owl from her perch. He stroked the silky grey feathers as he softly said, “I bought you for my lady friend. Her name is Susan. Hopefully, you’ll be carrying a lot of letters between us. I live at Hogwarts.”

Susan watched, fascinated, as Remus talked to the owl. When he paused, she asked, “What’s his name?”

“Her,” Remus corrected. “And that’s for you to decide.”

Remus held out his hands, and Susan took the owl gently, if a little awkwardly. She stroked the grey feathers; they felt nice. The owl regarded her solemnly, as if waiting for something. Susan thought for a minute and then said, “Leia. I like Leia. Is that okay?”

The owl hooted once as if satisfied. Susan smiled at her new pet and sat down on the couch.

Remus sat down beside her and asked, “Leia is a beautiful name, but where did you get it?”

Susan grinned sheepishly. “She’s the heroine in one of my favorite stories.”

Sheila walked in from her bedroom and said, “Mother, what is that?”

Susan smiled at Sheila and answered, “Remus got me a pet.”

“Cool – so you can send notes back and forth. What’s its name?”

“HER name is Leia.”

Sheila giggled. “Mum, only you would name a pet after a character in Star Wars!”

Remus cut in, “Star Wars? I’ve never heard that story.”

“It’s Mum’s favorite movie,” Sheila explained.

“A movie,” Remus said, eyes narrowed in concentration. “The moving pictures – like the television – only bigger, right? I’ve never seen one.”

Sheila and Susan gaped at him, but there was a knock at the door, and Sheila turned around to admit her aunt and uncle. Tom and Louise Granger looked surprised to see Remus sitting comfortably on the sofa next to Susan … with an owl. But they recovered as Remus rose to shake hands.

Lunch was delicious and merry. After they exhausted the topic of the wedding, Remus and Susan told Tom and Louise about their visit to Diagon Alley. Susan noticed Remus seemed to feel comfortable with her family, which pleased her.

When the food was gone and the conversation waned, Tom said, “Remus, let’s walk down the street and get a pint. I know the girls are dying to talk about you.”

Susan was appalled. “TOM!” But Louise only giggled.

Remus reddened, but agreed, and followed Tom out of the kitchen. Sheila excused herself as well, and Lou started talking immediately. “He seems really nice, Susan! I didn’t know he would be here today.”

“I didn’t either – it was a really nice surprise. He said he just wanted to see me – it will be a couple of weeks before we can see each other again – with school – and all.”

Louise suddenly remembered something. “Professor Lupin … wait a minute … he’s the one that’s a werewolf, isn’t he?”

Susan was surprised but then remembered that their daughter had been a student at Hogwarts; of course she would know about that. She answered, “Yes. He told me about that at the wedding. He seemed to think it was important that I knew.”

Louise nodded. “Yes, I can remember Hermione saying he was her favorite teacher. Still, I wonder if it could cause complications in a permanent relationship.”

“Louise! We just met!” Susan scolded.

Louise smiled significantly at Susan. “I know, but your feelings for him are very intense, aren’t they?”

Susan sighed; she couldn’t fool her sister. “I think I’m falling in love with him. I’ve never felt this way about a man before – not even Rupert. Is this even possible? Two days ago I had never even heard of him!”

Louise pondered. “Well,” she said slowly, “Tom insists he fell in love with me the first time he saw me. Of course, with us it wasn’t a mutual thing at first – I needed a lot of persuasion to even go out with him.” They both giggled a little at this. “But after watching you two at lunch, I suspect Remus feels the same way about you.”

Susan nodded. “I think he does.” She told Louise about their conversation that morning.

“Wow! I think it might be good that you won’t see each other for a couple of weeks. Separation is a good test for relationships.”

Susan sighed. “You’re probably right – but I feel like it’s going to kill me.”

“I’ve got a piece of advice for you, if you want to hear it.”

“Please.”

Louise looked intently at Susan. “I’m guessing you’ve only talked about the more agreeable aspects of your lives, am I right?”

“Except for the werewolf thing at the wedding – yes.” Susan suspected she knew where Louise was going with this.

“Tell him about your marriage. Talking about the unpleasant parts of your lives would be another good test of the depth of your feelings. And I’m sure there are things about his past that you’re curious about – ask him. Tom and I can talk about anything, which is the main reason our marriage has been successful.”

“Yes,” agreed Susan, “communication was a major problem with Rupert.” She smiled at Louise. “Thanks, Lou.”

Louise returned her smile. “I’m just so happy to see you like this! I really hope this works out for you two.”

************************************************

The pub was packed with enthusiastic football fans, all staring at the television screens hanging from the ceiling. Remus couldn’t help being amused as Thomas Granger tried to explain the sport. It seemed so strange; the ball was perfectly round, the players couldn’t use their hands, and they were running on the ground instead of flying. But the patrons of the pub seemed very emotional about the game; it was difficult to converse over the shouts and cheers.

When coverage of the game paused for an advertisement, Tom suddenly changed the subject. “You have some very strong feelings for Susan, haven’t you?”

Remus was taken aback by the blunt question; he felt like a schoolboy under scrutiny. He smiled and said, “I assure you, I only have honorable intentions toward your sister-in-law.”

Thomas laughed. “Sorry, Remus; I didn’t mean to sound like an overprotective father. It’s just that I’ve known Susan for over twenty years, and I remember how hard it was for her when her marriage failed. I don’t want to see her hurt again.”

Remus considered confiding in this man. He hadn’t had a friend his own age since Sirius died, and he had very little experience with dating. He smiled to himself as he realized Susan was probably telling Louise about their conversation that morning, so Tom would most likely hear about it anyway. He took a deep breath and said, “You know I’m a werewolf, right?”

Thomas looked puzzled for a moment and then seemed to remember something. “Right – you’re the one! Is that dangerous for Susan?”

Remus shook his head. “No, not at all. But there’s a lot of prejudice against werewolves in the wizarding world, so I haven’t had many opportunities for dating. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, but I think I’m falling in love with Susan. Is that possible – we just met?”

Thomas laughed softly. “Oh, yes. I fell in love with Lou the first time I laid eyes on her. But I understand it’s very rare.” Tom clapped a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “Look, you seem like a nice enough fellow, and I’m really not worried. I just feel obligated to give you the ‘boyfriend talk’ since I’m the closest thing Susan has to a brother.

“Now what I would really like to talk to you about is what Hermione was really doing all those years at Hogwarts.”

*************************************

Remus walked into the Great Hall with Harry, glad he had convinced his young friend to accompany him to the Hogwarts Welcoming Feast. In Remus’s opinion, Harry was too thin and spent way too much time in his flat. He was also hoping Harry would take the opportunity to talk to Professor Snape about Divination.

Remus observed Harry as he warmly greeted many of the teachers, looked reminiscently at the first years, watched the Sorting Ceremony with interest, and gazed almost longingly at the Gryffindor table during dinner. It was amazing; with all Harry had been through at Hogwarts, he still seemed to miss it. Remus couldn’t help wishing, as he had many times over the years, that Harry had been able to have a normal childhood, a childhood without Voldemort.

Remus was snapped out of his musings by Severus Snape’s voice. “Mr. Potter, please come to my office after dinner. I have something to discuss with you.”

“Okay,” agreed Harry, looking down at his food. Remus was amused that he looked a little nauseated.

Remus caught Snape’s eye and mouthed, “Thanks,” grateful that he didn’t have to broach the unpleasant topic with Harry.

As the students began to finish dinner, Remus noticed many of them were watching Harry, a few were even pointing. Remus sighed and leaned over to the teenager, whispering, “If you’re finished, let’s duck out the side before you have to start signing autographs.”

Harry looked up and realized that the students had figured out who he was. He nodded once to Remus, and they slipped out the side door before anyone could approach him.

*************************************************

Harry made his way to the dungeons with a sick feeling in his stomach. Snape had always hated him, and his Occlumency lessons as a Hogwarts student had been physically and mentally draining. He knocked on the door and entered when prompted. He noticed the décor in Snape’s office had not improved. There never seemed to be enough light, which was probably a good thing. The walls were lined with shelves brimming with bottles and vials containing an assortment of foul and slimy-looking substances. A large container of a poisonous-looking green liquid occupied a place of honor on the Professor’s desk.

“Sit down,” Snape said. Harry felt like a student in detention. 

“Well,” Snape began, “it seems our most famous former student has shown signs of yet another talent. I’m sorry to say this will probably accomplish nothing more than to swell your inflated ego even further, just like your father.”

Harry remained silent, refusing to be baited. Severus Snape and James Potter had hated each other as schoolmates, and Snape had extended that enmity to James’s son.

Snape continued, “No one can truly teach Divination, however they might try.” Harry knew he was talking about Professor Trelawney. “But the Headmaster seems to think I can help you develop your ability.”

Harry took a deep breath. “What do you have in mind?”

“As you know, the study of Occlumency involves learning to sense when another mind is seeking access to yours and to block it. The reverse is also possible, but only for people with the Gift. Professor Dumbledore thinks you might have the ability to probe other minds since the Dark Lord had that ability.”

“Legilimency? But that’s not the same as predicting the future.”

“No, but some of the techniques are similar. First, you will learn to clear your mind – that shouldn’t be much of a stretch for you – and then you can learn to probe outward. The Headmaster is hopeful that these disciplines will enable you to focus and control your impressions of the future. I am not so optimistic. We shall see.”

Harry ignored the barbs and asked, “Is it possible that I can predict the future because I can see into other minds and read their intent?”

Snape’s lip curled slightly. “That is an interesting thought, Potter. However, Legilimency is normally directed toward a specific person, not specific events.”

Harry had a sudden thought. “You have the ability to probe other minds, don’t you? When I was a student here, it seemed you had an uncanny ability to catch me doing … er … things I shouldn’t.”

The Professor nodded once. “Maybe you’re not as dim-witted as I thought.”

Harry continued, “That’s how you were able to spy on Voldemort.” Snape cringed at the mention of the name, but Harry ignored him because something else had occurred to him. “Professor Snape, if you could read my mind … you should have known … I never wanted all the attention I got. I just wanted to be a normal kid.”

Snape raised his eyebrows and sneered. “I told you that Legilimency is more subtle than mind-reading. But you can’t expect me to believe all those stunts you performed during school were NOT for attention! You went after the Philosopher’s Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, and Sirius Black; you started an illegal club; you organized a rescue within the Ministry of Magic … No, your shenanigans far exceeded anything James Potter ever came up with.”

Harry finally lost his temper. “Look, I’m sick of being compared to my father! I’m not like him! I saw how he was in your Pensieve, and frankly, I wasn’t impressed.” Snape’s eyes glittered dangerously; they had never talked about the day Harry had intruded into Snape’s memories of James and his friends.

Harry lowered his eyes and continued, “I saw how he strutted around campus, ruffling his hair and trying to get the girls to notice him. It was disgusting. And the way he treated you was horrible!” Harry raised his eyes to Snape’s face, but it was livid.

“Potter, I don’t want or need your pity!” Snape said in a low and dangerous voice.

Snape’s anger shocked Harry into realizing what he had done; he couldn’t believe he had confessed his resentment toward his father to his enemy! Harry found his voice, and protested, “I don’t pity you. It’s just … I don’t know … I wonder sometimes why my mum ever married him.”

Snape gripped the desk, his knuckles white, as if trying to gain control of himself. Finally he said, “I think we’ve had enough for tonight, Potter.”

“But we haven’t …”

“GET OUT, POTTER!”

Harry gave the Professor a bewildered look, then rose to leave. As he reached the door, Snape said, “Potter.”

Harry said, “Yes?” without turning.

“I expect you Thursday evening at seven sharp!”

Harry turned at looked at Snape. He appeared to have relaxed somewhat, but his eyes were still smoldering. “Thanks,” Harry muttered, managing a small smile, and left the dungeon as quickly as he could.

**************************************

Remus looked up expectantly as the owls carrying the morning mail swept into the Great Hall. You’re being silly; you just saw her yesterday. But he couldn’t help hoping …

His heart gave a flutter, and his eyes lit up when he spotted the small, grey owl. She landed neatly in front of him and extended her leg. “Good job, Leia,” he murmured. “Why don’t you follow the other owls to the Owlery and have a nap, and I’ll send you back with an answer after classes. Okay?”

Leia hooted in agreement and flew away.

Remus turned his attention to the letter, realizing from its weight that it was very long. He decided not to open it in the Great Hall but couldn’t resist holding it up to his nose briefly to breathe in her scent before pocketing it. He glanced around quickly to be sure no one had noticed and saw Professor Snape watching him with an odd expression. He smiled and said, “Good morning, Severus. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Snape looked up at the ceiling, which was bewitched to copy the sky outside. Remus followed his gaze. Thick, mournful clouds hovered overhead, threatening rain any moment. He grinned at Snape, daring him to mention the letter. But Snape only nodded once and returned his attention to his breakfast.


	5. History

Harry trudged to Dr. Wilson’s office. He was not fond of the idea of discussing his emotions, especially with a stranger, but after his behavior with Ginny at the wedding, he knew things were getting a little out of control. He couldn’t let something like that happen again; he didn’t want to hurt another of his friends.

The office didn’t look threatening. Dr. Wilson had a relatively small desk with several comfortable-looking chairs in front of it. There was no “couch” like he expected from television shows. Three of the four walls were lined with bookshelves filled with books, knick-knacks, and several items which looked magical.

The doctor didn’t look threatening, either. She appeared to be in her fifties, with short, light brown hair and a pleasant face. She smiled at him from one of the chairs as he entered.

“Mr. Potter?” she asked as she stood and shook his hand.

He nodded, and she gestured for him to sit in the chair across from hers. “May I call you Harry?” she asked politely.

“Sure.”

“How can I help you, Harry?”

This question surprised Harry a bit, but he stammered, “Well, Professor Dumbledore and Remus Lupin seem to think you can help me work out some things.”

“And you must concur to some degree, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I-I’m not really sure what I think.”

Dr. Wilson smiled. “Most people are reluctant to talk to me at first. It’s okay if it takes you awhile to open up.”

For some reason this irritated Harry, and he burst out, “Okay, well, I killed two men in cold blood, I dragged my best friends into Dark Magic, I spent a year as a vigilante in the United States, I just watched the woman I love marry my best friend, and I think I might be an alcoholic. How’s that for opening up?”

Dr. Wilson’s smile broadened. “Well, I guess we bypassed reluctance, didn’t we?” Harry was impressed that she wasn’t shocked by his tirade. Her expression turned serious before she continued, “Harry, I’ll be honest. I know who you are and some of what you’ve been through, just like every other witch and wizard alive. I know you faced nightmarish horrors before you were an adult. You obviously have a lot of inner fortitude.

“However, I’m guessing you’ve never had anyone you could really talk to. Everyone you trust is too close to you and the situations, but you can’t trust those who aren’t close to you. I could be that person for you. I don’t know you personally, and I’m not involved in the situations you’ve so eloquently described, but you can trust me. Everything we say here is completely confidential; in fact, no one will even know you’re my patient unless you choose to tell them.”

Harry thought about this for a moment. She was right; he’d never been able to talk about his feelings to anyone, even Ron and Hermione. He said slowly, “So you’re thinking I can just talk to you, and that will help me.”

“I think that would be a great start,” Dr. Wilson replied. “Sometimes, just admitting things out loud gives a tremendous amount of relief. Other times people want my advice about situations, and sometimes I give it.” She smiled pleasantly. “Why don’t you just start by telling me what’s bothering you most today – besides having to come see me.” Her eyes twinkled again, and Harry felt himself relaxing a bit.

**************************************************

Remus strolled the corridors of Hogwarts, in no hurry to return to his lonely office. He always resented the wolf, but this month his emotions more closely resembled hatred. He should have been spending the weekend with Susan, but the wolf was keeping him at Hogwarts.

When he arrived at his office, Severus was waiting with the Wolfsbane Potion. Remus forced a polite smile and thanked him in a dismissive tone.

But the Potions Master was in no hurry to leave. He hovered in the doorway and finally blurted out, “Does she know?”

“Who?” Remus was irritated with the intrusion into his private business. But he kept his tone even as he feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about, Severus?”

“You obviously have a relationship with a Muggle,” Snape said in a superior tone. “You’ve received a letter written on paper every day this week. I was just wondering if she knows your little secret.”

Remus couldn’t afford to get angry, and he decided the best way to deal with Snape was to call his bluff. “Yes, Severus, I’m dating a lovely woman named Susan Chandler who happens to be a Muggle. She’s Hermione Granger’s aunt – I met her at the wedding. And yes, she knows I’m a werewolf.”

Snape looked surprised; he obviously thought Remus would deny it or that he hadn’t told her. But he recovered quickly enough for another barb. “Well, I guess only a Muggle would associate with a werewolf, since she can’t possibly understand the implications.”

This stung, not because Remus felt he was settling by dating a Muggle, but because he was more than a little worried about how she would react if she ever saw the wolf. He felt anger rising in him as he said in a dangerous voice, “I don’t see women beating down your door, Severus. Maybe I should ask Susan if she has a friend?”

Snape’s expression quickly changed from a smirk to a frown. “That won’t be necessary,” he said, his pureblood sensibilities clearly affronted by the mere thought of dating a Muggle, and swept from the office.

Remus was disgusted with himself; this was the closest he had come to losing his temper in years. He really needed to be more careful, especially so near the full moon. All in all, Remus was not in the best frame of mind to greet his alter-ego that night.

****************************************************

On Sunday afternoon, Harry found himself in the only place he had ever really felt at home, the Burrow. Ron and Hermione were back from their honeymoon, and most of the Weasley clan was gathered around the kitchen table enjoying Molly’s excellent cooking. Harry was having a great time, despite the fact that he was trying to steer clear of Ginny; he was still ashamed of his behavior at the wedding. He was relieved that Ginny seemed to be avoiding him also, but that could have been his imagination since there were so many people in the house.

Ron and Hermione had taken a week-long Mediterranean cruise (Harry’s wedding gift) and were regaling them with stories of exotic things seen and experienced. Hermione, of course, couldn’t wait to bore them with all the history she had learned, while Ron talked about the great food and recreation. Arthur kept plying them with questions about things like electricity and running water on the ship.

Harry noticed that Fred and George were both keeping quiet, which was unusual for them, but kept stealing anxious glances at Ron and each other, as if dying to ask something.

As they were finishing their pudding, Hermione said, “We thought we’d save the most interesting story for last.” Everyone gave her their full attention. “You know we stayed in London the night of the wedding. Well, after a nightcap in the hotel bar, we headed up to our room. I went into the bathroom to put on my … er … to get more comfortable, and Ron was to do the same while I …”

Harry cut in, “T.M.I.! T.M.I.! That’s enough, Hermione!”

“T.M.I.?” asked Ginny.

Harry grinned at the puzzled expressions around the table. “American expression. Acronym for Too Much Information.”

“Yes,” Molly agreed, “I was getting an image in my head that I’m not terribly comfortable with.”

Ron looked affronted. “So what did you and Dad do on YOUR wedding night?” Then he paled, evidently imagining something he wasn’t comfortable with. “Never mind,” he murmured, as Ginny and Fiona giggled.

“May I PLEASE continue?” Hermione asked, clearly annoyed.

“NO!” shouted George, “I thought that was the whole point of this discussion.” Harry noticed the twins were looking extremely uncomfortable.

Hermione merely smiled sweetly at George, then Fred, and said, “Anyway, I came out of the bathroom, expecting to see my handsome new husband waiting for me. But instead, there was a six-foot canary!”

The entire room exploded. Everyone except Molly, Ron, and Hermione burst into laughter. Molly turned to Fred and George, a livid expression on her normally kind face. “HOW COULD YOU … THEIR WEDDING NIGHT … A STUPID PRANK …”

Fred and George stopped laughing and cowered as Molly’s tirade continued. Everyone else took the cue and slipped from the room, most still howling with laughter.

Harry joined Ron and Hermione in the living room. Ron, practically shouting to be heard over Molly, said, “Good job, Hermione. I couldn’t have done it better.”

Harry laughed harder as he realized what Ron meant. “You two told that story deliberately in front of your mum to get Fred and George into trouble with her. Well done!”

Now Ron and Hermione laughed. “They deserved it,” Ron said.

“How long did you have feathers?”

“Only for about fifteen minutes,” Ron answered, “but we didn’t know that at the time. We were so close to owling for help.” He paused for a moment, and then said, “Although, I wonder how they did it – the timing was impeccable.”

“RON!” Hermione protested. She turned to Fiona. “Are you sure you want to marry one of these loons?”

Fiona wiped her eyes and answered, “Oh, yes! Life certainly won’t be boring, will it?”

But Hermione pressed, “Aren’t you wondering what Fred might turn into on your wedding night?”

Fiona nodded her head enthusiastically as if she was looking forward to it.

Suddenly, everyone’s attention went to the window as the insistent tapping of an owl finally got loud enough to be heard over Molly’s raging. Ginny let it in, and it landed neatly on Harry’s shoulder. His face paled as he read the note.

“What is it?” asked Hermione, concerned.

“It’s Remus. He’s been injured. I’ve got to go. Can I borrow some Floo powder, Mr. Weasley? I’m sorry, but I’m taking my Apparation test tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. And thanks for dinner. Please tell Mrs. Weasley it was delicious.”

“Thanks for coming, Harry. Let us know how he is.”

Harry nodded, stepped into the fire, and said, “Hogsmeade!” It was annoying sometimes that it was impossible to Floo directly into Hogwarts; the Headmaster had charmed the castle in many ways to prevent attacks.

Harry walked as quickly as possible to the castle and practically ran up the stairs to the hospital wing. He burst into the ward and was relieved to see that Remus was sitting up. As he approached the bed, he saw that his friend’s right arm was heavily bandaged and his face was as pale as death, even though his eyes lit up when he saw Harry.

Harry drew in a sharp breath and asked, “What happened? Was it the wolf?”

“Yes.” Remus looked down as though ashamed. 

Harry sat down heavily on the bed. “I should have been here.”

Remus looked back up at him. “Of course you shouldn’t have! How on earth can you possibly imagine that this is your fault?”

Harry shrugged. “I could have been here, you know. I could have transformed and stayed with you, like my dad used to. I thought about it, but I figured you’d made it all these years without him, and I was afraid to ask because it seemed rather personal. But I should have known, after all the stress you’ve been through during the past month, mostly because of me …”

“Harry! Don’t! Quit blaming yourself for everything.” Remus’s voice and expression softened. “I’m okay. This isn’t as bad as it looks. I was able to make it down here on my own power.” He paused and looked sheepish. “Well, most of the way down here. Anyway, I’ll be fine in a couple of days. Don’t worry, and don’t blame yourself.”

“But I could have helped!” Harry protested.

Remus sighed. “Look, if you want to help, I’ve got something you can do for me. This arm is going to be useless for a couple of days. I sent for you to ask you to fill in for me tomorrow, and possibly Tuesday.”

“You want me to teach your classes? But doesn’t Snape usually take over for you during the full moon? Won’t that make him mad?”

Remus gave Harry a devious smile. “Actually, I’m counting on that. But seriously, Harry, you’ve got the experience from that club you formed during your fifth year, and I know my students will … er … respond better to you.”

Harry was uncomfortable. He had reached a tenuous understanding with Snape and didn’t want to anger him since he had lessons with him every week. Then he remembered the thrill of watching his fellow club members master the hexes and defenses he taught them and knew he would agree. “Is Dumbledore okay with this?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Harry grinned. “Well, I guess I’ll have to reschedule my Apparation test.”

**************************************************

Harry struggled to still the nervous tapping of his foot as the fourth years filed into the classroom. Most looked curiously at him, and a few started in recognition. When they were all seated, he rose from the desk and said, “Good morning. My name is Mr. Potter, and I’ll be filling in for Professor Lupin today.” He paused to allow them to ask the question he knew was burning.

As expected, half the class raised their hands. He called on a girl in the front whose eagerness reminded him of Hermione, and she asked, “Are you really the Harry Potter?”

He blushed in spite of himself and said, “Yes.”

He waited for the excited murmuring to die down and then said, “Professor Lupin was planning to talk to you about the Unforgivable Curses today. As you probably know, using any of them is a one way ticket to life in Azkaban. Who can tell us about one?” Several hands were raised, and Harry called on a student in the back row.

“One of them kills you, doesn’t it?” asked the boy.

“Yes,” Harry answered. “Do you know what it’s called?”

“Avada Kedavra?” Several students squirmed uncomfortably upon hearing the incantation.

“That’s right. Ten points to Slytherin. Does anyone know a defense?”

Everyone stared at him. Finally, the eager girl from the front raised her hand hesitantly. “Mr. Potter, there is no defense, is there?”

“No, there’s not. Sorry, I guess that was a bit of a trick question.”

“Then how did you survive?” asked the Slytherin from the back.

Harry sighed. “I said there’s no way to defend yourself. My mother provided my defense by dying for me.”

Another boy from the back raised his hand, and Harry acknowledged him. With a sly expression, he asked, “You know how to use the curse, don’t you? How else could you have killed the Dark Lord? How did you keep from landing in Azkaban?” There were many nervous looks and much murmuring from the other students at the audacity of these questions.

Harry peered at the insignia on his robes; of course, another Slytherin. Note to self: Kill Remus for giving me this particular topic! He forced his voice to sound casual as he said, “I’m not here to teach you how to use the curse – this is a defense class. I know my history seems interesting to you all, but it is just that – history, and I’d prefer not to talk about it.” He paused for effect, and then continued, “Does anyone know about one of the other illegal curses?”

He called on a girl with Ravenclaw insignia. “The Imperius Curse is used for control.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw. Yes, the incantation is Imperio. The perpetrator has total control over the victim. The victim could be made to tell a lie, drown himself, kill his wife, anything.” Harry paused to let that sink in. “However, there is a defense for this curse, and I think Professor Lupin plans to teach you next week.” Several hands shot up. “And before you ask, yes, the Imperius Curse has been attempted on me, and yes, I can fight it off.” They all looked impressed at this.

“Okay, who knows another Unforgivable?” he asked.

Eager Girl from the front volunteered, “The Cruciatus Curse causes pain, right?”

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” Harry nodded. “The Cruciatus Curse, or Crucio, causes extreme pain. It is used for torture and can eventually lead to insanity in the victim. There’s plenty of proof of that at St. Mungo’s. There’s no known defense against this one.”

One of the Slytherins couldn’t resist. “Mr. Potter, have you ever been a victim of the Cruciatus Curse?”

Harry was annoyed at the question; he thought he had made it clear that he didn’t want to talk about the war. But it occurred to him that it might do some good to scare the students a little. Even though Voldemort was dead, there was still evil in the world, and he sincerely hoped none of these teens would follow that path.

He walked around the desk and sat down on the edge, facing the students. Every eye was riveted to him as he quietly said, “It feels like your bones are on fire, your skin is being cut with flaming knives, and your head is splitting open. Every part of your body hurts at the same time, and there’s no relief. You only want to die so it will end.” He looked around the room and noted with satisfaction that every eye was filled with horror. Better this than the horror of feeling it themselves or watching a friend feel it. Maybe they’ll never have to experience it. He could only hope.

“The final illegal curse will not be in your book. It was introduced during the Second War, so I will be surprised if many of you have heard of it. The incantation is Eschara Durabilis, and it causes permanent scarring on the skin wherever it hits. It’s also very painful. Defense is possible, but tricky. The ministry has just begun training Aurors to defend this curse, and I believe Professor Lupin will be attempting to teach the seventh year class the defense.” Harry paused. No hands went up this time, but he decided to answer the unspoken question anyway. He rolled up his sleeve to expose the ugly, jagged scar on his left shoulder, and said, “The person was aiming for my face, but I moved just in time.”

Harry looked significantly around the room. Every eye was fixed on him. He cleared his throat and said, “There are two reasons for teaching you about the Unforgivable Curses. The first is obvious – to inform you so you’ll know what to avoid and possibly how to defend yourself. The second is to keep you from being tempted to use them. To that end, your homework is to write an essay describing all four of the curses. You must include at least two examples of real people who have suffered the consequences of one of these curses. You can find these examples by looking in the library, or by interviewing teachers, family members, or parents of other students. Because of the research involved, you will have two weeks to complete this assignment. Professor Lupin is in his office if you have questions. You may use the remainder of this period to begin. Thank you for your attention.”

***************************************

Harry waved his wand lazily at the door of his flat and said, “Alohomora.” The door opened, admitting a fully-healed Remus. “Hi,” Harry said, without taking his eyes from the television.

“Why did you want to see me, Harry? Is something wr…” He broke off as his attention was caught by the image on the television. Two ugly women were stumbling through a train station. No, not women, men dressed as women. “Harry, what on earth are you watching?”

Harry grinned. “It’s a Muggle movie called Some Like it Hot. It’s supposed to be the funniest movie ever made. I’m supposed to be focusing on the lighter side of life as part of my therapy. Dr. Wilson recommended some movies, but most of them have been sappy romances. This one is actually pretty good so far.”

“I’ve never seen a movie. Susan’s taking me to one tonight – something about star wars?”

“The Star Wars movies are great – I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Hey, speaking of, I need to get going – what did you want to see me about?”

Harry waved his wand to turn off the television, stood up, and pulled the door open. “I wanted to show you something. Come out here.”

Harry led Remus to the parking lot and stopped in front of a shiny red Ford Streetka.

Remus beamed. “Excellent! You decided to buy yourself another car!”

“No, it’s for you.”

“What?”

Harry dangled the keys in front of his face. “You said Susan didn’t care for the motorcycle, and she doesn’t have a car, so how do you expect to get around?”

“But Harry, you can’t buy me a car!” Remus stammered.

“Why not?” Harry grinned. “I have more money than I know what to do with, and I owe you big for bringing me back to Britain.” His tone turned pleading. “Remus, please accept this.”

Remus was speechless for a moment, and when he found his voice, he could only say, “I don’t know what to say.”

Harry laughed softly. “Go have fun with your girlfriend, Remus.”

“But, Harry …”

“No buts – GO!”

“This is rather important. Harry, I’ve never driven a car before.”

***************************************************

Susan hummed to herself as she took extra care with her hair and make-up. She was excited and more than a little nervous about seeing Remus again. Excited because the time they had already spent together had been so perfect. Nervous because the time they had already spent together had been so perfect, maybe a little too perfect. She couldn’t help expecting something to go wrong.

Susan had never been in a relationship that had worked. She seemed to gravitate toward the men who lurked on the edges of society. They all had one thing in common: something “wrong” that Susan felt she could “fix” with enough love. One had been extremely shy, another overly obnoxious. She had even dated a petty thief. At least after Rupert, who had been emotionally abusive, she had been smart enough not to marry any of them.

She smiled to herself as she thought of Remus. He was actually normal! How did she manage to attract a guy who was normal? But wait, there was that werewolf thing. And it did seem that even though Remus had a few loyal friends, he still “lurked” on the edges of the wizarding society. She furrowed her brow as she wondered how well she really knew Remus Lupin.

As she was brushing her hair, she caught sight of his last letter. They had written to each other every day they had been apart. Remus had never mentioned the werewolf in his letters; only apologized for not being with her and telling her how much he missed her. Today Leia had been waiting for her after work with his shortest letter yet:

 

Dear Susan,

I should be able to get away right after dinner tonight, but Harry wants me to stop by and see him first – I’m not sure why. I’m guessing I will arrive at your flat around eight p.m. I’ve missed you so much, and I’m really looking forward to seeing you.

Love,

Remus

Susan smiled again. Why should she worry? The werewolf didn’t really seem to be a big deal – she would just have to avoid seeing him once a month. Really, girl, you should just relax and enjoy yourself! What’s wrong with you?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a motor outside. She was confused; it didn’t sound like a motorcycle, and Sheila was not planning to be home that weekend.

She hurried to the living room and looked out the window. There was a beautiful red convertible out front with two men inside; the driver looked just like …

Susan flung open the door and ran outside. “Remus!” she shouted as he exited the car. They both stopped abruptly as they met and just looked at each other. Susan was suddenly shy, keenly feeling the two week absence. Would he still feel the same? Did she?

Then a voice behind Remus said, “Go on – I know you two want a snog – don’t mind me.”

That broke the spell, and laughing quietly, Remus embraced Susan and kissed her gently. “Oh, I missed you so,” he whispered into her hair.

Susan looked up and saw Harry smiling from behind Remus. She let go of Remus and said, “Hello, Harry. It’s good to see you again.”

Harry greeted Susan warmly. “Don’t worry,” he assured her with a huge grin, “I’ll be off presently. I had to give Remus a driving lesson.”

“A driving lesson?” She turned to Remus. “You’ve never driven a car before? But you can drive a motorcycle!” It pleased Susan when Remus blushed – his vulnerability was so attractive. 

“Well, it’s a lot different – bigger, for one thing,” he protested.

“So, if you’re all right with the car, Remus, I’ll just be going. You two kids have fun – and be in before curfew!” With that, Harry Disapparated into the growing darkness.

Susan laughed as he left. “Harry’s a delight,” she said to Remus. “I can see why he means so much to you.”

“He’s wonderful,” Remus agreed as his gaze lingered on the place where Harry had been standing seconds before. He turned back to Susan and said, “Well, do I have a little time to practice driving before the movie?”

“Hmm,” Susan considered. “I wonder if I’m taking my life into my hands getting into a car with someone who only learned to drive tonight.”

“You trusted me with the motorcycle.”

“You knew what you were doing with it.”

“Not really. I had only driven it a couple of times before, and that was over fifteen years ago.”

Susan’s eyes widened. “You didn’t tell me that!”

****************************************

They managed to make it to the movie theatre in one piece. Susan insisted on buying a soda for each of them and a big tub of popcorn to share. Remus protested that he wasn’t hungry, but Susan told him that he needed to get the full experience of a movie.

While they were waiting for the feature to start, Remus asked, “Susan, do you want me to leave the car at your place, so you can use it during the week?”

Susan was startled. “What do you mean? I thought you were borrowing the car from Harry.”

“No, it’s mine. Harry gave it to me – that’s why he wanted to see me tonight.”

Susan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow! That’s quite a gift!”

“I know,” Remus agreed. “I almost didn’t accept it. But he had a good point – I needed a good way to travel with you. I’ll let him use it whenever he wants.”

“Then I should thank him next time I see him!” Susan said. A sudden thought occurred to her. “Maybe we could have him over for dinner tomorrow night?” As soon as she said it, she felt silly; she’d made it sound like they were an old married couple.

Remus didn’t seem to notice and agreed. “That’s a great idea. He could probably use a good meal – I’m not sure how well he eats, being on his own.”

The lights darkened, and Susan whispered, “First they’ll have previews – advertisements for other movies.”

Remus took a handful of popcorn and a sip of soda and settled down to watch.

*******************************************************************************************************

Remus was quiet as he drove her home. Susan wasn’t bothered by this; she figured he was just concentrating on shifting gears. But when they arrived at her flat and she asked him in, he agreed rather absently. He sat on the sofa, and she went into the kitchen to make tea.

A few minutes later, she heard his soft voice behind her. “Let me help you with that.” He reached around her and tapped the kettle with his wand, causing the water to boil instantly.

She turned around to face him and said, “You come in handy. I need to keep you around.” She kissed him gently.

He pulled her closer and crushed his lips painfully against hers. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back as they told each other through their kisses exactly how painful those two weeks apart had been.

Remus suddenly pushed back from Susan, panting, and said, “Er … we’re boiling.”

“Yeah,” Susan agreed, blushing.

“I mean the kettle,” Remus said, grinning at the silly joke. He waved his wand, muttering something. Two cups and two teabags flew out of the cabinets and onto the counter. Remus poured the water and handed Susan a cup. They stared at each other for a moment.

“Well, did you like the movie?” Susan asked.

“Yes!” Remus exclaimed. “I liked the Jedi and all the neat things they could do – reminded me a little of wizards. I liked the idea of the peaceful planet getting the bad guys in the end, too. I never saw much point to television – I thought it seemed silly. But movies are actually fun… I don’t know … they’re …”

“Bigger?” Susan finished, laughing.

“Bigger,” Remus agreed, laughing with her. But then his expression sobered. “I couldn’t help thinking how the little boy reminded me of Harry. Both were raised in abusive situations, found out they were magical at about the same age, and were taken to another world to be trained.”

“Anakin Skywalker? No, Harry’s not like him – he turned out okay.”

“What do you mean?” asked Remus.

Susan smiled mysteriously. “Do we have any specific plans for tomorrow, Remus? Because I have an idea.”

*********************************************

Remus spent most of the night telling Harry’s story. Susan had heard about Harry, Hermione and Ron saving the wizarding world from an evil character, but she didn’t know the full story. Of course, Remus skirted the darker details of Voldemort’s demise.

Remus was surprised when he woke up the next morning stretched out on Susan’s sofa, with a pillow under his head and an afghan tucked around his legs. He must have fallen asleep while they were talking. He rose, stretched, and set off to find Susan.

She wasn’t in the kitchen or the bathroom, so that left one of the two bedrooms. He opened the first door, and his eyes were immediately assaulted by the colorful posters papering the walls; most appeared to be boys with guitars and oddly colored hair. Moreover, the bed was empty, which furthered his conclusion that this was Sheila’s room.

Remus went to the next room. This bedroom was tastefully decorated in navy and yellow, and the bed was occupied by his sleeping host. He closed the door and went back to the kitchen to start coffee and an omelet.

*******************************************

Susan was awakened by the sound of a deep voice softly calling her name. She smelled the delicious scent of freshly cooked food before she forced her eyelids open and a smiling, handsome face swam into focus. “Good morning,” Remus said.

Susan felt her insides melt as she realized his eyes were full of love. He loves me! But she only said, “Good morning, yourself,” and gave him a groggy smile.

When she was able to wrench her eyes away from his face, she noticed the loaded tray on the bed between them. There were two plates with omelet and toast, two mugs of coffee, and a bud vase with a single red rose. “Remus!” she exclaimed. “This looks wonderful! Thank you!” She vaguely wondered where the tray had come from – she didn’t have one.

“This is to thank you for letting me sleep on your sofa,” he replied, somewhat embarrassed.

Susan helped herself to a sip of tea and then answered, “No problem.” She adopted an exaggerated formal tone and said, “You are hereby granted an open invitation to kip on my couch any time you please.”

Remus laughed softly. “I’m just glad you didn’t chuck me out after all those scary wizard stories I told you last night.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that. And anyway, it can’t be too scary if the hero triumphs in the end.” She had kept her tone light but now looked at him seriously. “Your war stories don’t have happy endings, do they? Last night, when you told me about Harry’s part in the war, you avoided telling me about you and your friends. It’s obviously very painful for you to talk about, but I hope you’ll be able to tell me someday.”

Remus considered her words. He still avoided talking about the particulars of the Marauders’ deaths; he supposed he had never properly grieved for them. However, it might be nice to talk to someone his own age that hadn’t experienced the wars. And for some reason, Remus felt compelled to open up to Susan. He took a deep breath and said, “Susan, I’d like to tell you, but it’s a really long story.”

Susan’s eyes widened; she hadn’t expected him to trust her so easily. She grinned and said, “I’ve got all day.”

Remus launched into the story before he lost his nerve. He told the story of the Marauders and the map; how, instead of rejecting a werewolf, like he expected, his three best friends had become Animagi to keep him company during his transformations. They laughed together about James and Lily’s courtship and wedding. But after he’d told her how he’d felt when Harry was born, he faltered.

Susan sensed his reluctance to continue and prodded gently, “You told me Harry’s parents died when he was a baby – how did that happen?”

Remus sighed. “Right before Harry was born, there was a prophecy that a baby born at the end of July to parents who had defied Voldemort three times would be the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord. The prophecy also stated that the Dark Lord would mark this baby, but Voldemort’s spies only heard the first part. Harry’s birthday is July 31st, and James and Lily had already escaped Voldemort three times. When Voldemort figured this out, he decided to kill Harry before he could be killed by him.”

Susan was horrified. “He wanted to kill a baby? But he didn’t succeed!”

“No, but I’ll get to that in a minute. We had spies in Voldemort’s organization, so James and Lily found out he was after Harry and decided to go into hiding. Wizards have an almost foolproof way of hiding – it’s called the Fidelius Charm. The location of the person, or people, is concealed inside a single, living soul, called the Secret-Keeper. No one can find the person hiding unless the Secret-Keeper chooses to reveal their hiding place.”

Susan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “But what if Voldemort had happened to find their hiding place anyway?”

“He wouldn’t have been able to see them, or he wouldn’t have realized it was them. Also, only the Secret-Keeper can reveal the location. If the Secret-Keeper chooses to tell a friend, the friend is incapable of telling anyone else.”

“So how did this magic charm fail?”

“The charm itself didn’t fail. James and Lily decided to make Sirius their Secret-Keeper. They knew he would die rather than betray them. But Sirius knew there was someone close to them who was passing information to Voldemort. Several people knew that Sirius was going to be the Secret-Keeper and those who didn’t would have figured it out – he was James’ best friend, after all. So at the last minute, without telling anyone, Sirius persuaded James and Lily to use Peter as their Secret-Keeper. He thought this would be an extra security measure – no one would expect them to use Peter.”

“They didn’t tell you they switched?”

“No. Sirius … Sirius thought I was the spy.”

Remus cringed as he saw the horror and anger in Susan’s eyes. This was the one thing he and Sirius had never resolved, and now it was too late.

Susan indignantly said, “How could anyone possibly suspect you?”

Remus sighed, his eyes full of sadness. “I don’t know. I’ve always wondered if it was because I’m a werewolf. But don’t judge Sirius too harshly until you hear the rest of the story.”

Remus could see Susan’s mind working. She said, “Wait a minute - that means Peter was the spy!”

“Yes – you’re way ahead of me. Just as Sirius thought no one would suspect Peter of being the Secret-Keeper, no one suspected him of being the spy for Voldemort. Barely a week after the Charm was performed, Voldemort stormed into the house, killed James and Lily, and tried to kill Harry. But for some reason, he couldn’t kill Harry, and the curse rebounded and sort of temporarily killed him instead, leaving a horrible scar on Harry’s forehead.”

“Marking Harry like the prophecy said.”

“Exactly.”

“Wait a minute – how can you be sort of temporarily killed?”

Remus paused for a moment, not sure how to explain. Finally he came up with, “It seems that he was deprived of his body for a time, but his spirit endured.”

“Oh, like Sauron in Lord of the Rings?”

“What?”

Susan smiled. “Just another story I like. Except the one you’re telling is real.” She turned serious again. “Okay, I don’t think I like where this story is going – this is horrible.”

“Sirius arrived at James’s and Lily’s house not long after it happened. Of course, he knew right away that Peter had betrayed them. Sirius was always a hothead. Instead of telling me or Dumbledore or someone what really happened, he went off to confront Peter. He probably would have killed him. But Peter was ready for him. He made sure there were plenty of witnesses and framed Sirius for his death and the deaths of a dozen Muggles. Peter went into hiding, and Sirius was sentenced to life in prison for betraying James and Lily to Voldemort and for killing Peter and all those people on the street.”

Susan had her hand over her mouth, apparently too horrified to speak. Remus had lost the will to continue. Susan finally managed, “What did you do? You tried to tell them, didn’t you?”

Remus looked down at his plate. “I didn’t know what to think. I was sure Sirius would have never betrayed them, but I was also sure he wouldn’t allow anyone else to be the Secret-Keeper. I was aware there was a spy among us, so despite my gut feeling, I had to eventually come to the conclusion that Sirius was the traitor, and I just hadn’t known him as well as I thought I did. And even if I had jumped up to defend Sirius, no one would have believed a werewolf.”

By this time, Susan’s face was streaming with tears. “No one believed Sirius?”

“Sirius came from a family that was steeped in the Dark Arts, like Voldemort. In fact, his brother was part of Voldemort’s inner circle. Most found it easy to believe Sirius was a traitor.” Remus looked up and saw Susan crying. “Darling, I’m so sorry!” He put the tray on the floor and moved forward to take her in his arms. “Don’t cry … you’ll get me started … it was all so long ago.”

Susan continued to cry into Remus’ shoulder. “But you lost all your friends in one night! It’s just so horrible!”

“Yes, it was. But I survived. And eventually I got Sirius back – for awhile.”

Susan pulled back and looked at Remus. “So how did Sirius get out of jail? I thought you said he had a life sentence.”

Remus described how Sirius had escaped from jail and convinced his closest friends he was innocent by exposing Peter. Then he fell silent and visibly slumped, as if drained of energy.

Susan looked at Remus silently for a moment and then whispered, “And Sirius died.”

Remus looked down at his hands. “Yes. During the Second War. He was killed by a Death Eater.” Remus sighed deeply and then stood up suddenly and picked up the tray. “Well, I’d better call Harry to see if he wants to come over tonight.” Susan started to get up, but Remus stopped her with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll take care of this. You go ahead and get dressed, then come tell me what we’re doing today.”

Susan watched him leave, puzzled at the lack of emotion he displayed as he told his story. It was odd that he had been comforting her when he was the one who had suffered so much. She stared at the bedroom door for a few minutes and then threw the covers aside.

************************************

Remus collapsed against the kitchen counter; the strain of holding in his emotions was almost too much to bear. He concentrated on relaxing as he slowly recovered. I’ll pay for this next full moon! This was a mistake – I just CAN’T talk about it! He straightened up suddenly when he heard footsteps behind him and began unloading the tray. He stopped when he felt the arms around his waist and the head against his back.

“Are you okay, Remus?” Susan asked.

Remus turned around to face her, remaining in her embrace, and just allowed her to hold him. He was amazed at how comforting it was; he felt his tension slowly melt away. “It’s still really difficult for me to talk about, even after all these years,” he murmured into her shoulder.

Susan pulled back just enough to look at him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Remus sighed. “It’s okay. I wanted to tell you. Besides, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have known how comforting it can be to hold a woman in my arms.” She narrowed her eyes and raised one eyebrow. He smiled and corrected himself, “… how comforting it can be to hold you in my arms – not just any woman.”

She smiled back and kissed him lightly. “I was teasing, you know.”

“I know.” He released her and pulled out his wand to start the dishes. “What are we doing today? You said you had an idea last night.”

**************************************************

Harry Apparated into Susan’s kitchen at seven o’clock that evening. Remus and Susan were sitting at a table set for three, and Remus was asking, “Darth Vader is really Luke’s father?”

Harry laughed and sat at the empty place. “Thanks for inviting me, Susan – it looks great. Yes, Remus, Darth Vader is Luke’s father, and Leia is…”

“Harry!” Susan interrupted. “Shhh! He hasn’t seen Return of the Jedi yet!”

“Sorry,” Harry replied, giving Remus an alarmed look.

Remus looked from Harry to Susan and laughed. “You Star Wars fanatics are all alike, aren’t you? So who is Leia?”

“No,” said Susan firmly, “we’ll watch it later, then you’ll find out.”

Remus drew his eyebrows together, puzzled. After a moment, he said, “If Darth Vader is Luke’s father, that means he’s really Anakin Skywalker! Now I know what you meant last night about Harry turning out okay.”

Harry’s face popped up from his food. “What about me?”

Remus blushed, but Susan answered, “We went to see The Phantom Menace last night. Remus couldn’t help noticing certain similarities between your childhood and Anakin Skywalker’s. But he didn’t realize that Anakin turns out to be evil.”

Harry stared at Susan silently for a moment and then looked back down at his plate. Remus cursed silently to himself for bringing up such a sensitive topic. Susan gave Remus an alarmed look, and Remus forced his features into what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Finally, Harry spoke, still looking at his food, “So, Susan, I guess you heard my life story.”

Now Susan’s eyes were as round as saucers as she looked desperately at Remus. Remus quickly answered for her, “Not all of it, Harry. I didn’t tell her the story about Neville’s boggart during my first week of teaching.” When Remus finished the story, Harry and Susan were laughing, and Remus relaxed.

Harry finished laughing and said, “That reminds me of the time Snape caught me with the Maurader’s Map.”

“Yes!” said Remus. “Tell Susan what it said to him!”

By the time dinner was finished, they were all in tears with mirth, and the awkward moment was forgotten.


	6. Surprises

“Surprises”

The weeks of September rolled by, and Harry spent most of the time in his flat watching countless movies and surfing endlessly on the internet. He met with both Dr. Wilson and Professor Snape twice each week and occasionally joined Remus for a meal at Hogwarts. He didn’t see much of Ron and Hermione since they were so busy with classes, studying, and each other.

He had become a regular at the Weasley family Sunday dinners. Each week, he looked forward to the loud, obnoxious fun. When he Apparated to the front door of the Burrow one Sunday in late September, however, he wondered if he had the wrong day. The house appeared to be deserted; there were no lights in the windows, and all was deathly silent.

He knocked on the door, waited, and was about to try the back when the door opened abruptly. Multiple voices shouted “SURPRISE!” from inside as the lights came on. Hermione pulled him inside and into a massive hug, as he stared in shock at the beaming faces around him and the banner suspended from the staircase that read, “Happy Birthday, Harry!”

“B-but my birthday’s in July!” he stammered, trying not to grin like an idiot. The crowd dissolved into laughter. 

“We know that, mate,” said Ron, “but we missed the last two, and we figured you’d probably never had a birthday party before. Hope you don’t mind us temporarily moving your birthday to September.”

Harry laughed and felt his eyes growing damp. “You guys are great! I don’t know what to say! Thank you!” Amid the applause that followed, he began hugging everyone in sight.

*********************************************

Later, after Harry opened his pile of gifts and they all devoured huge pieces of cake, Arthur Weasley managed to corner Remus and Susan out in the garden. “Did I see you two arrive in a new car?”

Remus smiled at him; he had heard about the Ford Anglia. “Yes, and it’s a Ford. Care to see it?” Arthur nodded so fast Remus thought his head might fall off. 

Susan shook her head at the two of them and said, “Remus, you don’t mind if I go see what Tom and Lou are doing, do you? Only two will fit in the car, anyway.” She smiled at Arthur, gave Remus a soft kiss on the lips, and walked off.

“She seems great, Remus.”

“She is,” Remus agreed as he watched her walk away.

“Don’t let her get away, mate.”

Remus felt slightly troubled at this, but only said, “Come on – let’s go look at the Streetka.”

They walked though the Burrow to the front garden and approached the shiny red car.

“Does it fly?” Arthur asked.

“No, of course not.”

“I could help you out with that, you know. Of course, my invisibility spell needs work, but …”

“Wait a minute,” Remus interrupted, “the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department is suggesting …”

“No, your friend Arthur Weasley is suggesting. He doesn’t know that other bloke today.” They both laughed and eagerly jumped into the new car.

****************************************

It was almost impossible to completely evade Ginny since he had so much contact with the Weasleys, but Harry had been able to avoid being alone with her since the wedding. However, now that he had finally found the courage to apologize, he couldn’t catch her alone. Neville never left her side. As he watched them from across the room, Neville whispered something in Ginny’s ear, and she laughed up at him. Harry felt his stomach clench. He wondered why he cared who Ginny was laughing with but rationalized that it must be because he wanted to talk to her.

When Neville finally walked away from Ginny, Harry grabbed the opportunity. He sidled over to the redhead and murmured, “Ginny, can I talk to you for a moment?” Ginny looked at him for a moment, as if trying to decide something, and then led him upstairs to her room. She closed the door and turned to face him. The look in her eyes was unreadable but not encouraging.

Harry took a deep breath. “Ginny, I am so sorry for the way I acted at the wedding. I had no right to treat you like that. Please forgive me.” He paused for a moment and gathered his courage. “I-I have something for you.” He handed her the slim case he was carrying.

She took the case and looked at her shoes. “It’s okay, Harry. You were drunk.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have been drunk in the first place.”

Ginny shrugged her shoulders and turned her attention to the case. Harry stopped her as she started to unzip it. “Wait – lay it down first.”

Harry felt relieved as he watched her eyes drop their guard and widen in intrigue. She laid the case on the bed and unzipped it carefully, eventually pulling out a slim but heavy item. She pried the halves apart and stared. “Harry,” she gasped.

“It’s a laptop computer,” he explained. “I decided to get a new one and wondered if you might like to have this one.”

“Harry, I can’t accept this.” He was fascinated by the bounce of her crimson hair as she shook her head in dissent.

“Please, Ginny,” he begged, taking a step toward her. “I wanted you to know how sorry I am, and I want to be friends. It would be so nice to have someone to email. And I certainly don’t need two computers.” He fought the temptation to touch her hair, wondering why he had never noticed it before.

“But how will I hook it up?”

“Do you have electricity and phone lines in your new flat?”

“I think so – it’s a Muggle flat.”

“It’s easy – I’ll show you later.”

“Thanks, Harry. I really like my computer class – it will be fun to try it at home.” Harry relaxed as Ginny smiled her acceptance. She turned around suddenly and opened the closet door. “I’ve got a birthday gift for you, Harry. I was going to wait until most everyone left – I didn’t think you’d want to open it in front of everyone.” Harry gasped when she turned around. She was holding a small cage that contained a snake. “I-I know you have Hedwig,” she said hesitantly, “but I thought you might like a pet you could talk to.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He was certainly glad she had chosen to give this to him privately. Most people considered the ability to talk to snakes to be a Dark Art. He finally stammered, “D-don’t you think that Parseltongue is evil?”

Ginny looked into his eyes and shook her head. “No, I don’t.” she said firmly. “It’s just a gift, a talent – like being good at Quidditch or music or something. But I know it makes other people uncomfortable, so I wanted to give it to you privately.” She held the cage out to him, took a deep breath, and said, “Harry, being able to talk to snakes is part of who you are – it’s nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. And I know you live alone – I thought you might get lonely sometimes.”

Harry suddenly realized she lived alone and wondered if she felt lonely sometimes, but he shoved those thoughts aside; she had Neville, after all. He took the cage and focused his attention on the snake. It was a nice-looking snake, with black, white, and red stripes from its head to its tail. He turned the cage so he could look it in the eye and said, “Hello. I really like your markings. What kind of snake are you?”

“I am a Sonora Mountain kingsnake from North America,” the snake said in a sibilant whisper.

“Do you have a name?”

“I am usually called Sonora. Are you my master now?”

Harry smiled. “Yes - I’d like to be.”

The snake stared at him for a moment and then inclined its head regally. “You may name me, then.”

“If it’s okay with you, I’ll just continue to call you Sonora.”

“That is acceptable. I am accustomed to that name.”

Harry frowned a bit, then asked, “Er … what do you think of owls?”

A knock on the door startled him. “Ginny, are you in there?” asked Neville.

“Yeah! Come in!”

Neville poked his head around the door and then entered the room. He looked around, his eyes narrowing slightly as they rested on Harry. Harry felt irritated, especially when he noticed the slightly guilty look on Ginny’s face. What’s wrong with Ginny and I having a private conversation? We’re practically brother and sister, for heaven’s sake!

“Ah, I see you gave Harry the snake.” It annoyed Harry that Neville knew about the snake; the feeling of intimacy that Ginny’s gift had created was ruined.

“Yes,” Ginny answered a little too brightly, “and look what Harry gave me!”

Harry tried to slip out of the room as Ginny showed Neville the computer, but she stopped him. “Harry, can you come over later and show me how to hook this up?”

“Er … yeah … just let me know when.” He forced a smile in her direction and escaped.

****************************************

A few days later, Ginny found herself pacing her flat, unable to sleep. She finally landed on the chair in front of the computer, flipped it on, and logged onto the internet. She was idly wondering why she felt disappointed that there was no e-mail from Harry, when a chime made her jump. A small window popped up in the middle of her computer screen that read, “You have an instant message from MagicMan. Do you want to accept the message?”

Ginny hesitated. Was this a different kind of e-mail? She knew “MagicMan” was part of Harry’s e-mail address, so she clicked “accept.” The window disappeared, and another window appeared with Harry’s message, “Hey, Ginny, it’s Harry.”

Ginny stared at the screen for a moment then looked nervously behind her. Could he see her? She started as the chime sounded again.

Another message appeared, “Ginny, are you there? Just type in what you want to say and click send.”

Ginny typed, “Hi Harry. It’s Ginny. Are you on the internet right now?” She clicked the “send” button, watched her message appear under Harry’s, and then waited for the chime to sound again.

“Yeah. Isn’t this cool? I’ve never tried it before.” Before Ginny could answer, another message appeared. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

Ginny smiled and narrowed her eyes. “I could ask you the same question.”

“Yes, but I asked first.”

Ginny had had a nightmare at Neville’s, and it had caused a bit of an argument between them. For some reason, she didn’t want to tell Harry she had been with Neville. She typed slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I was watching a movie, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I didn’t feel like going back to sleep.”

“I didn’t think you had a television.”

Now Ginny felt trapped, but she didn’t know why. Her previous message had been truthful, and Harry knew she and Neville were dating, after all. She typed, “I was at Neville’s” and defiantly hit “send.”

“Oh. What movie?”

“The Matrix.”

“You fell asleep during The Matrix???? Didn’t you like it?”

Ginny felt embarrassed, as Harry had recommended the movie, but she decided to be honest. “Sorry, not really. Neville thought the fighting was cool, but I got bored with it.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who told you to watch it. I thought you might like it because of the computer stuff.”

“Maybe it’s more of a bloke thing???”

“Yeah! (I’m laughing.)” Ginny laughed along with Harry. It felt weird laughing with a computer.

“Okay, so what are you doing up? I told you.” She waited for his response, but after a few minutes, nothing was forthcoming. Finally, she typed another message. “Harry? Are you still there?”

“I had a nightmare.”

Ginny wasn’t surprised Harry had nightmares, considering all he had been through, but she was surprised he admitted it to her. She was so used to hiding her nightmares from everyone. She wondered if she could ask him for details without sounding nosy. She finally typed, “What was the dream about?” It was easier to ask personal questions when you didn’t have to look the person in the eye.

Harry’s answer came back right away. “Cedric.”

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t angry. “Do you have a lot of nightmares about that?”

“Sometimes about Sirius, sometimes about Hagrid. A lot about Voldemort.”

Suddenly Ginny felt a lot better about her own nightmares; they couldn’t be as bad as Harry’s. “I’m sorry. Nightmares are a pain.”

“You have them too?”

She hesitated before answering. “Yes. I had one tonight. That’s why I came home.”

“What are yours about?”

Ginny bit her lip and stared at the keys for awhile before typing, “You know – same as you – the War and stuff.” She waited a beat before clicking “send.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; she did dream about the War occasionally.

“Have you found anything that helps?” Harry asked. Ginny was relieved that he didn’t ask for details about her dreams.

“Only the Dreamless Sleep Draught,” she typed, “but I don’t like to take it because it makes me groggy at work. Have you?”

“Mine have been a little better since I’ve been going to counseling. Maybe it helps to talk about it?”

She was surprised; Harry had always been so reluctant to ask for help. She was very curious about the counseling. “What do you mean by better?”

“Less frequent and not quite so intense. Maybe you should talk to someone about your nightmares. It might help.”

Ginny felt the panicky sensation returning to her stomach. “Maybe. Listen, I should probably get off – I have to work tomorrow.”

“Okay. Bye!”

Ginny’s panic subsided as soon as she turned off the computer and went to bed. She immediately fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

A few miles away, Harry turned off his computer, wondering why he had felt comfortable telling Ginny about his nightmares. He too went to bed and had his best night’s sleep in years.

****************************************

Harry pulled up to Ron and Hermione’s flat as dusk fell. A flash of red hair appeared briefly at the window, and he had barely reached out to knock when the door opened, revealing an excited, freckled face. “So … do I get a go on it?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, but be careful – the flying mechanism has been acting up. Do you think your dad would have a look at it?”

“Yeah – bring it Sunday.” Ron stepped out of the flat and pulled the door closed behind him. “Listen, mate, don’t mention anything about flying around Hermione, okay?”

“You got it, mate.” He gave Ron a slap on the shoulder and laughed softly as he watched his friend run eagerly towards the bike. He let himself into the flat and went to greet Hermione, who was hard at work in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove that looked and smelled disgusting. He dropped a kiss on her cheek and said, “Er … Hermione … it … er … looks … delicious.”

Hermione only laughed in response. Harry was struck by the sheer happiness of it and wondered how he had survived so long without hearing it.

“No, it doesn’t!” she said. “Don’t worry – this isn’t dinner. It’s Wolfsbane Potion. Remus agreed to let me try it on him. He’s going to stop by after dinner and take it.” She stopped stirring and looked at him. “Ron’s Apparating down to the Chinese restaurant for dinner.”

“Er … I think he took the motorcycle.”

Hermione gave Harry a disapproving look and turned her attention back to the potion. “Did you bring that contraption? Ron had better not be flying on it. He might be seen – this is a Muggle neighborhood.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Er … I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t like.”

Hermione laughed again. “Yes, he would. But then he’ll try to make sure I don’t find out.” Harry noticed she didn’t sound angry, only amused. “Hey, Harry, do you mind grabbing some plates and forks? I can’t leave this right now.”

Just as Harry finished setting the table, Ron walked in with an enormous white sack, beaming. He cornered Harry and whispered, “That was brilliant!” Then his nose wrinkled. “Hermione!” he shouted, setting the sack on the table. “Could you please put a containment spell around that potion? It smells awful!”

“I’m almost done,” she said, still stirring. “How was your flight?”

“It was brilliant, honey! You should try … I mean … what are you talking about?”

Hermione stopped stirring, cast a charm on the bubbling cauldron, and turned to face Ron. “You flew that motorcycle?” she asked with a severe expression. “How many Muggles saw you?”

“None!” Ron protested. “It was dark, and I didn’t turn on the headlamp.” He crossed the room and took her into his arms, but she stiffened against him. “Honey, don’t be mad at me … please?” He ducked his head to kiss her neck until she relaxed in his arms.

Harry’s stomach clenched, and he turned away from the scene. He pretended to look with interest in the bags of food. “So … we’re having Chinese for dinner?”

Ron let go of Hermione and turned to Harry. “Yeah.” He laughed. “Hermione’s a hopeless cook.” He began unloading the sack.

Harry looked nervously at Hermione; there weren’t many things she couldn’t do, and she certainly wouldn’t like Ron laughing about one of them. But when she turned from the stove, her face only registered amusement. “He’s right,” she agreed. “I hope you don’t mind takeout.”

Harry shook his head. It was difficult enough to believe that Hermione wasn’t capable of something, but it was incomprehensible that she didn’t care. “But you’re studying to become a Potions Master! How can you cook potions and not food?”

“Scary, isn’t it?” Ron said with an exaggerated shake of his head. “Poor Remus probably only has a few hours left to live.”

Hermione wadded up a scrap of parchment and threw it at Ron. “Potion brewing and cooking are two different things! Potion brewing is an exact science that requires precision and concentration. Cooking is more of an art form – nothing is exact! A bit of this and a pinch of that – and nothing has an exact cooking time. It drives me crazy – I just can’t do it.”

Harry nodded, a little bewildered by her explanation, and sat down to eat.

They loaded their plates with sweet and sour pork and kung pao chicken and ate in engrossed silence for a few minutes. After he’d picked his first plate clean, Ron asked, “So Harry, you own 12 Grimmald Place now?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to keep it?”

Harry saw a sudden movement under the table and assumed that Hermione had kicked Ron, since she was shooting him a nasty look. “What?” Ron asked.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s okay, Hermione. You don’t have to treat me like I’ll break.” He turned to Ron. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll feel like I can live in it someday. Right now I’m having it cleaned – you should see the place – you wouldn’t recognize it. Dobby’s doing …” He was interrupted by the clatter of Hermione’s fork.

“You have a house-elf, Harry?” she asked in a squeaky voice.

Harry laughed. Hermione was obviously still campaigning for elf rights. “Don’t worry, I’m paying them.”

“Them? How much?”

“As much as they’ll take, which isn’t much. Dobby and Winky are doing most of the work. They’ve got some kind of arrangement with each other – I guess you’d say they’re married, but they don’t call it that. She’s mellowed out a lot since we knew her at Hogwarts.”

They spent the rest of dinner talking about Ron’s and Hermione’s studies. Ron seemed surprised that Harry wasn’t interested in becoming an Auror anymore, but Harry explained that he had seen enough darkness for a lifetime, and Ron couldn’t argue with that.

During pudding, Harry heard a familiar voice inside his head. His eyes must have glazed over as he concentrated, because Ron sounded alarmed when he said, “Harry! Are you okay, mate?”

Harry shut off the voice and focused on his friends. “Yes, it’s just Snape. Can I go in the other room for a minute so I can concentrate?” He got up before they could answer, ignoring their stunned looks, went into the bedroom, and shut the door.

Harry sat on the bed, shut his eyes, and focused on Snape, reaching his mind toward Hogwarts. After a moment, he heard Snape’s voice clearly, “Potter! I don’t have all day.”

Harry focused on the words. “Sorry, I’m at Ron and Hermione’s. I couldn’t concentrate with them in the room.”

Harry distinctly heard the words, “I hate social gatherings,” but they were quiet, as if Snape hadn’t meant for Harry to hear. He laughed to himself, thinking that if Snape would only wash his hair, he might actually have a social life.

“I heard that, Potter!”

Harry was alarmed. “I’m sorry, Professor – I didn’t mean for you to …”

“I’ll have you know, Potter, that I wash my hair daily. I use a potion to slick it back so it will stay out of my way.”

“But why do you let people think …”

“Potter! I didn’t summon you to talk about my personal hygiene! I have to cancel your Monday lesson because of a detention. Can you come Tuesday?”

Harry arranged the next lesson time with Snape and went back into the kitchen. Remus sat at the table with Ron, glaring at a frothing goblet. Ron looked up as Harry entered. “You can communicate telepathically with Snape?”

“Yeah.” Harry shrugged, assuming Remus had explained. “I guess it’s a side effect of all that training I’ve had with him.”

Ron pulled a face uglier than the look Remus was giving his potion. “Snape, of all people. Why couldn’t it have been me? Or Remus? Or some attractive blonde?”

“So now you prefer blondes?” Hermione asked from the kitchen.

“Of course not, dear, only my brown-haired angel,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

Remus snorted, and Harry couldn’t help grinning. “Newlyweds,” Remus muttered.

“Oh, like you never talk to Susan like that,” Harry teased. Much to his surprise, Remus blushed and looked uncomfortable. He wondered if something was wrong between them but didn’t feel comfortable asking.

Remus cleared his throat and said, “Well, here it goes.” He picked up the goblet and took a large swallow. His eyes widened, and he gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione cried in alarm.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. The consistency is correct, but the taste is wrong. Maybe you can try again next month.”

“But I followed the directions exactly! I know it’s right.” Hermione looked as if she were close to tears. “Can you tell me the difference in taste?”

“Well, this actually tastes good. It’s sweet, as if you put sugar in it.”

“Of course I did. The recipe warned that although not necessary, the potion would be difficult to swallow without it.”

Harry watched Remus’s expression change from puzzled to comprehension to anger. “I’m going to kill him!” he said in an angry but controlled voice. He then proceeded to use some vocabulary that made even Ron look shocked.

Harry realized what he meant. “Snape’s the one who told you sugar made it useless, isn’t he?”

Hermione’s mouth was opened in astonishment, probably at the language she wasn’t used to hearing from their former teacher. She finally managed, “Snape told you that?” She shook herself out of her shock, grabbed the book from the counter, and plunked it down in front of Remus.

Remus shook his head as he read the recipe. “I can’t believe this! The transformations are bad enough, and I’ve been struggling to keep from vomiting for a week every month …”

“Well, I can’t guarantee you won’t vomit,” Hermione broke in. “The book clearly states that the potion will likely make you feel nauseated.”

Remus relaxed a little and shook his head. “Snape. Well, this beats all the pranks we ever played on him in school. This is the ultimate prank.” He raised the goblet. “Here’s to Snape.” He toasted the air and drained the goblet in three gulps.

“Well,” Remus said, setting the goblet down with a flourish, “you don’t know how much I appreciate this, Hermione. It’s been very illuminating.” He rose from the table. “Sorry to run, but Sheila’s home for the weekend, and she and Susan are supposed to teach me some Muggle games.”

“Wait a minute.” Ron jumped up from his seat, ran to the bedroom, and came back holding a deck of cards. “Here – teach them to play Exploding Snap. That should be fun.”

Remus laughed softly, took the cards, and Disapparated with a crack.

Ron cleaned up the dinner dishes with a wave of his wand, and the three friends settled down on the sofa to watch a movie. Harry had insisted on bringing Jurassic Park when he heard they had a television and video player. He knew Ron would enjoy it but wasn’t sure about Hermione’s reaction.

Predictably, when the movie had reached its midpoint, Hermione stood and stretched. “I’m really tired,” she gasped through a yawn. “I think I’ll go to bed. Goodnight, you two.” She gave them each a kiss, Harry’s on the cheek and Ron’s on the lips.

After the bedroom door clicked shut, Ron gave Harry a mischievous look and whispered, “Now that she’s gone…” He pulled a bottle of firewhisky from behind the sofa. Harry raised his eyebrows and took the offered bottle.

An hour later, the movie was forgotten, and the two men were laughing hysterically at reminiscences from their Hogwarts days.

“Remember when Hermione’s Polyjuice turned her into a cat?” said Ron. Harry had started taking a drink from the bottle and spit it out, choking, as he was overcome by mirth. He fell back onto the sofa, arms and legs sprawled. Ron was doubled over with laughter but wasn’t sure if it was caused by the memory or by Harry’s drunken antics.

Harry finally managed to sputter, “Remember when Fred and George turned the entrance hall into a swamp …”

“… and Peeves saluted them as they left?”

“I’ll never forget the look on Umbridge’s face – priceless!” This time Harry rolled off the sofa, hitting his head on the coffee table, but only laughed as he clutched his forehead. Ron supposed the alcohol was acting as an anesthetic by this time.

“Oh … oh … oh …” Harry gasped from the floor. “Four words: Malfoy the bouncing ferret!”

This time Ron fell off the sofa, rolling on the floor. He laughed until his stomach ached. He sputtered and gasped, and finally managed to say, “Remember when Fred and George tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament…”

“…and sprouted identical beards?” Harry finished. This sent Ron back into uncontrollable laughter but not Harry. He continued, “And then my name came out of the goblet.” Ron’s laughter died as he watched the expression in Harry’s eyes change to resentment. "And the spotlight was on me again, and my picture was all over the paper. And you hated it that I was getting all the attention, that the Famous Harry Potter was in the limelight again. You hated it because you wanted it for yourself..."

Ron watched in amazement as Harry’s lips twisted with anger, and he clutched the bottle tighter to his side. He couldn’t deny Harry’s words; in fact, he couldn’t seem to speak at all.

Harry studied the firewhisky bottle and continued, “You know, it’s really ironic that you were jealous of me. You had everything I ever wanted. I always wanted to be normal – just another kid, but I couldn’t. My family was dead, but you had wonderful parents and sibs who loved you. And the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world you took from me.”

Ron felt the blood drain out of his face. Harry had never talked like this before. How could Harry, with all his fame, fortune, and women falling at his feet be jealous of him? He stammered, “What … what did I take from you, Harry?”

Harry lifted his eyes from the firewhisky bottle and said coldly, “Hermione. You married Hermione.”

Ron couldn’t believe his ears; he must have heard incorrectly. He shook his head, trying to clear it. “You’re … in love … with Hermione?”

Harry stared frigidly at Ron, his eyes unrecognizable. Ron caught his breath at the depth of anger Harry radiated. “Yeah, Weasley. I’m in love with your wife. What do you think of that?”

“How long?” Ron was starting to feel dizzy; this couldn’t be true! He wanted to look away, but his eyes were riveted to Harry’s.

Harry shrugged and sneered. “I don’t know – years. I didn’t realize it until that horrible seventh year when we were sinking deeper and deeper into the Dark Arts.” Harry finally looked away. “I decided I’d better not say anything to her until after my confrontation with Voldemort – I mean, what if I didn’t survive? But then, after three years of pining, YOU finally asked her out.”

Ron was silent for a long time. He was glad Hermione was asleep; he couldn’t bear for her to know. It would hurt her to know she was a source of pain to Harry. But there was another reason he didn’t want her to know, a nagging doubt … but no, he couldn’t think about that.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Harry, is that why you left – because of me and Hermione?” He was glad Harry was examining his hands, so he didn’t have to look into those cold eyes; they made him feel as if he couldn’t breathe.

Harry laughed a nasty laugh that didn’t sound like him at all. “No, I never thought it would last between you two – you always argued so much. I just knew that eventually she would realize it was really me she loved. But you made sure she didn’t have a chance, didn’t you? You two – you’re so sickly sweet – I almost miss the fighting!” Harry slowly pushed himself up from the floor, rising to his feet a bit unsteadily.

Ron suddenly realized the volume of alcohol Harry had consumed; the bottle he was still holding was empty. The thought oddly comforted him; surely Harry didn’t mean what he was saying. He rose and looked Harry in the eye. “You’re drunk. It’s time for you to go home.”

“You want to hit me, don’t you, Weasley?”

Ron winced at the use of his last name. He felt his anger mounting despite his friend’s inebriated state. “You’re drunk, Harry. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do. I should have said it a long time ago.” He took a staggering step toward Ron. “If you’re not going to hit me, I’ll have to hit you, Weasley.” He swung his fist in a wild arc. Ron sidestepped easily and watched Harry tumble to the floor with a crash.

“Harry? Harry?” Ron prodded Harry with his foot. Harry groaned, but did not move. Ron slumped onto the sofa in frustration. Harry couldn’t go home if he was unconscious, but Ron couldn’t let him spend the night after …

He dragged himself to his feet, staggered to the telephone, and dialed the number for Susan Chandler’s flat. After a brief conversation, Ron paced the living room with his arms crossed over his chest. Of course, the living room was so tiny that it only took three steps to cross. But he kept walking, trying to burn off his anger, and pointedly ignoring the prone shape on the floor.

After a few agonizing minutes, Remus Apparated into the room. “What happened?”

“He got drunk and passed out.” Ron sighed at Remus’s skeptical look and said, “Okay, we got into an argument, and he tried to hit me. I think he knocked himself out when he fell. I swear I didn’t hit him.”

Remus grimaced. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had. He can be pretty … interesting when he’s been drinking.”

“No kidding.”

Remus rolled Harry onto his back and seemed to be checking his vital signs. When he finished, he turned to Ron, his eyes narrowed in concern. “He didn’t hurt either of you, did he?”

“No. Hermione was in bed.”

“What did he say to you?”

Ron shook his head and looked down. He didn’t want to repeat it; it was too awful …

“Ron?”

Ron stared at Remus for a moment and then looked at Harry. “I don’t know what happened. One minute we were laughing, reliving old times. The next he was telling me how jealous he was, and he was so angry …” He broke off, unable to continue.

“Was it about Hermione?”

Ron looked at Remus with wide eyes. “How did you …”

Remus waved an impatient hand. “Don’t take it to heart, Ron. I’m sure when Harry wakes up he’ll regret all of this. I hope you can forget it ever happened.”

Ron stared into Remus’s eyes, as if searching for answers. “Is it true? Does he love her?”

Remus sighed and looked at Harry. “He seems to think so. But I’m not sure he really understands the meaning of love. Please be patient with him, Ron. He really needs his friends.”

Ron shrugged. “Maybe. But I can’t have him here tonight. Do you think you can get him home on the motorcycle if we enervate him?”

After Remus left with Harry, Ron silently changed and got into bed, being careful not to wake Hermione. But his whirling thoughts kept him awake until dawn. What if Hermione had known? What if she had had the choice? Surely she would have chosen Harry – who wouldn’t? What if she changed her mind now?

If Ron hadn’t been so occupied with his own bitter musings, he might have noticed that the woman next to him was silently crying into her pillow.

****************************************

Remus woke up cold and uncomfortable, which was very different from waking up on Susan’s sofa. She always made sure he had a pillow and blanket, and her sofa was much wider than Harry’s. As he slowly opened his eyes, he became aware of a form standing over him, shifting impatiently. “Remus, wake up!”

Remus’ eyes snapped open at the sound of that voice. “Severus! What are you doing here?” He sat up slowly, stretching and twisting out the kinks in his muscles.

“Potter contacted me this morning, begging me for a hangover potion. I’m assuming your young friend overindulged last night. However, I can’t seem to wake him now.”

Remus was baffled. “You Apparated all the way to London on a Saturday morning to do Harry Potter a favor? Now I’ve seen everything. I didn’t know you were capable of being decent, Severus.”

“Don’t be foolish! I made it very clear to Potter that he owes me. He was willing to promise me his firstborn child – I’ll have to consider that.”

Remus shook his head. “Don’t give it to him.”

Severus raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me!”

“Come now, Remus. You know I wouldn’t really take his firstborn brat; however, I could probably think of something almost as painful.”

Remus sighed and stood up. “Look, Severus, I’m sorry you made the trip down here, but I’d really rather you take that potion right back to Hogwarts. I’ll make it clear to Harry that he still owes you a favor.”

“Remus Lupin is refusing Harry Potter a favor? Now I’ve seen everything! I didn’t know you were capable of cruelty,” Severus said with a bemused expression.

“He needs to learn to deal with the consequences of his drinking. This isn’t the first time this has happened,” Remus said, shaking his head.

“You’re not his father, Remus. He’s an adult.”

Remus crossed his arms. “I know I’m not his father. But as his friend, I’ve got to do what I can to help him. I don’t expect you to understand. And you certainly don’t have to do what I say.” Remus paused for a moment as he remembered something. “By the way, did you make that hangover potion taste as horrid as possible?”

“What are you talking about? Are you willing to let him take it if it tastes horrible?”

“No. I was actually thinking of another potion – one you’ve been brewing for me every month.”

Severus gave Remus a malicious smile. “Hermione Weasley made the Wolfsbane Potion for you yesterday, didn’t she? Are you telling me you prefer the flavor of hers?”

Remus tried to suppress his anger, realizing that Severus would never feel remorse for omitting the sugar from his potion. He sighed and looked the Potions Master in the eye. “Go back to Hogwarts, Severus. I’ll see you later.” Snape smirked and Disapparated.

Harry staggered into the living room, yawning as he came. “W-w-w-as that Snape I heard?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent! I assume he brought my potion?”

“Yes,” Remus said slowly, avoiding Harry’s eyes, “but I convinced him not to leave it.”

“You what?”

The tone of Harry’s voice caused Remus to look at him. His eyes were narrowed and his face was turning red. Remus took a deep breath. “Harry, you really need to stop drinking. The consequences are too costly.”

Harry picked up a book and threw it at Remus. Of course, in Harry’s state, the flying object posed no threat to Remus, but he ducked instinctively. “How dare you!” Harry seethed. “How dare you interfere in my business! You’re not my father!”

Remus felt his anger rising but forced himself to stay calm. It was too close to the full moon. “You didn’t mind me interfering when I brought you home last night,” he said. “I know I’m not your father, I’m your friend. Any friend would try to stop you from doing this to yourself. This is starting to affect your relationships – you can’t let that happen, Harry. Maybe a little pain will help.”

Harry exploded. “What do you know? You weren’t around most of my life! All you people who try to tell me what to do – where were you when I was locked in a cupboard full of spiders? Where were you when I was being beaten up by my cousin? Where were you when I was facing Voldemort? You can’t just waltz in when I’m grown and decide to be my father! I’ve made it this far on my own, and I don’t need you now!” He sat down heavily on a chair, put his head in his hands, and stared at the slivers of light between his fingers. “That didn’t help my headache any,” he mumbled.

Remus fought to master the sorrow that was threatening to overwhelm him. When he felt he could speak, he walked over to Harry, put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, and said, “I’ll make some strong coffee.”

When the pain in his head abated a bit, Harry followed Remus into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “I’m sorry. That was totally uncalled for.”

Remus turned to look at him, the hurt still apparent in his eyes. “You’re right, Harry, it was uncalled for. Take a good look at what your drinking is doing – it’s not pretty.”

Harry bowed his head as Remus handed him a steaming mug and a muffin. “I guess Ron told you what I said.”

“I’m surprised you remember. But yes, I guessed it was about Hermione.”

Harry crossed his arms on the table and buried his face in them. “Why? Why did I say that? I’ve lost my two best friends. It was so stupid!”

“It was the alcohol talking. You’ve got to stop drinking.”

“No! That’s just the thing! It was … what I said was all true! I love Hermione, and I hate Ron for taking her from me, and I hate her for choosing him, and I hate myself for being gone and allowing it to happen! And they were my best friends, and now they’re gone!” Harry looked up at Remus with tear-filled eyes. “What will I do?”

Remus tried to imagine what it would have been like if he had been in love with Lily Potter or if Susan had been in love with Sirius. He couldn’t fathom what Harry was going through. But he knew the only reasonable thing to do was to move on. He took a deep breath; he’d had all night to think about his next words. “Harry, I’ve got a few pieces of advice, if you want to hear them.”

“Okay.”

“First of all, I know you’re sick of hearing this, but STOP DRINKING! You need to limit yourself to an occasional butterbeer. Anything stronger just makes you want more. Second, apologize to Ron. Give him a few days to cool down, then grovel. I’ll be really surprised if he doesn’t forgive you. You’ve been friends for too long - he’ll get over it. Third, get a job. I know you don’t need the money, but it’s not doing you any good moping around this flat all the time. And lastly, get a life. You’re young. You should be out having fun – dating.”

Harry made a face. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that, yet. I’m not sure I want to inflict myself on anyone else.”

“I’m not telling you to get married. Just get out and have fun. Meet some people – maybe someone at work.” He paused a moment before saying, “I don’t think Sheila’s dating anyone.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You just think that since you have a girlfriend, everyone else should, too.”

Remus smiled. “I won’t deny that it makes me happy. When I’m with her, I can forget what I am. You’ve had very little happiness in your life, and you deserve some.”

Harry sighed. “Tomorrow night – do you want to stay here or should I go to Hogwarts?”

Remus knew the topic of dating was closed, but was puzzled by Harry’s question. “What are you talking about? Tomorrow is the full moon.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about – I told you I would transform and stay with you this time.”

Remus smiled, feeling relieved. “Thanks – I really appreciate it. Do you mind coming to Hogwarts? I don’t like to Apparate the day of or after.”

**************************************

Harry strode down the hall of the Ministry of Magic, still feeling the tenderness in his chest. Remus’s wolf had been violent and had actually cracked a couple of Harry’s ribs. Luckily, Remus had been unconscious when he transformed back into his human form, and Harry had been able to heal himself before he awoke. Harry didn’t want Remus to know about the injury because he knew he would blame himself, and Harry knew it was his own fault. Remus wouldn’t have been violent if he hadn’t been worrying about Harry’s drinking and harsh words. Remus had told Harry long ago that strong feelings made his transformations worse.

As he made his way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he wondered for the hundredth time what he was doing there. The owl had been cryptic, saying only that the Head of the Department needed to talk to him. He was a little nervous that he might be interrogated; his record with Unforgivable Curses wasn’t exactly clean. Or they may have found out about his Animagus…

Harry relaxed when Ms. Edwards offered him tea. But his ease was replaced with shock when he heard what she had to say. “Mr. Potter, I’ll come right to the point. We would like you to assist in our capture of the Cloaked Vigilante in the United States.”


	7. Journeys

AUTHOR’S NOTES: Thanks so much to my faithful boarhound… I mean beta, Ginnysdarkside, who knows when to slap me around a bit, but she’s polite about it. Thanks also to Dethryl, whose advice can be painful, but good.

 

Ron had been edgy for a few days. His answers to questions were just a little more clipped than usual, his kisses a bit more brief. Hermione could sense a distance in his eyes and feel the tension in his muscles. He had been this way before when work had been stressful, and she didn’t want to risk being accused of nagging, so she didn’t ask.

After three days, she grew impatient and decided to take action. She picked up a bottle of red wine to go with their Italian take-out and then, on impulse, grabbed a bottle of bubble bath as well.

When she got home, she charmed the bathtub to make it larger, filled it with bubbly water, and cast another charm to keep it warm. She placed candles in strategic places around the bathroom, knowing she could light them later with a wave of her wand. Then she dimmed the lights in the dining area and studied by candlelight until Ron came home.

“Why is it so dark in here?” he growled when he Apparated into the room.

In response, Hermione closed her book, went to Ron, and pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss. She felt his shoulders start to relax under her arms. He pulled back slightly and said, “Well, someone had a good day.”

She ran a finger down the side of his face and said, “I just thought it might be fun to relive certain parts of our honeymoon tonight.”

“Which parts?” Ron asked with a huge grin.

***************************************

Ron pushed himself away from Hermione and rolled over onto his back. She looked at him anxiously and pulled up the blanket to cover herself. “Wh-what’s wrong?” she stammered.

He sighed. “I’m sorry – I just can’t – tonight – I’m sorry …”

“Ron? What’s the matter?” Hermione asked, as the passion slowly faded from her body. She turned to look at him, but he was examining the ceiling.

“Nothing … nothing.” He shook his head.

She knew something had been bothering him for days, and this was the first time he had been unable to confide in her. She didn’t know what to think. “Ron, you know you can tell me anything.”

“No, not everything,” he muttered.

Hermione leaned forward slightly. “Something at work? Some Auror secret?”

Ron looked at her then shook his head and moved his gaze back to the ceiling. “Why on earth did you marry me?”

Hermione chuckled and rolled over on her side to face him, propping up her head on one elbow. “I guess I have a weakness for redheads,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

He grabbed her wrist and rolled over to look at her. “No, seriously. What if you had … had … other options?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, drawing her brows together. “Are you implying that I’m not sexy enough to attract anyone else?”

“Of course not, love, that’s not what …” Ron began quickly.

“Wait a minute!” Hermione interrupted. “Is this about that fight you and Harry had the other night?”

He gazed at her silently for a moment. “You heard that? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I’d better stay out of it since it concerned me. I figured I’d step in if it took you too long to make up.” Hermione shook her head as realization dawned. “It never occurred to me that he might have gotten to you – that you might feel … unsure about my feelings.” She watched as Ron looked away and his eyes grew wet. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

Ron took a deep breath as one tear managed to escape. He spoke so quietly she had to strain to hear him. “Because I was afraid of the answer.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and her own eyes began filling with tears. She knew Ron had always been envious of Harry, but she never imagined that would make him doubt her feelings. She silently cursed Harry; why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? Her anger toward Harry was reflected in her voice as she said, “Ron Weasley, look at me!”

He dragged his eyes to her face. “Ask me!” she commanded. He shook his head and looked down. “Ron Weasley! Look me in the eye and ask me!” She stared at him in desperation, and her voice softened. “Ron, we have to resolve this – we can’t let Harry get between us.”

The pain in Ron’s eyes made her chest hurt as he finally said, “If you had known … Harry … loved you … would you have chosen him?” Tears streamed down his face unchecked.

Hermione took a deep breath. She had to convince Ron of the truth, not only for the sake of their marriage, but for the sake of their friendship with Harry. She ignored her own wet cheeks and said, “Ron, I’ve been in love with you for years. If I had known how Harry felt, I would have still chosen to be with you. If you didn’t love me, I still wouldn’t be with Harry because of my love for you.” She sighed as he averted his eyes and wondered what it would take to convince him.

“Why would you choose me over Harry? He’s rich, he’s better looking, he saved the world. He’s got everything! What’s not to love?” Ron clenched his jaw and practically spat the words.

She trailed her fingers down Ron’s face and cupped his chin. “Harry’s not you,” she said simply. She smiled as Ron’s eyes widened in wonder. “Ron, I’m not some silly fickle girl who doesn’t know her own heart. If I had been in love with Harry, I wouldn’t have turned to you when he was gone. I would have waited for him to come back.” She gazed into his eyes and saw the emotion in them change slowly from wonder to realization to happiness.

After staring at her for a moment, he leaned over and kissed her, pulling her close. “I love you so much,” he whispered against her lips. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“It must have been something really good,” she teased.

He kissed her again, then closed his eyes and murmured into her neck, “I don’t think I’ll be having any more trouble tonight.”

*************************************

“Mr. Potter, I’ll come right to the point. We would like you to assist in our capture of the Cloaked Vigilante in the United States.”

Harry dropped his teacup, which shattered on the floor. He ignored it and searched Ms. Edwards’ face for signs of teasing or entrapment. She seemed completely serious. He finally managed to stammer, “B-b-but … d-didn’t he … stop?”

The Head of Magical Law Enforcement gave him a puzzled look, pulled her wand out of her pocket, and muttered a spell to repair the teacup. “Yes, he seemed to stop for a time. But now he’s changed his tactics. Instead of stopping thieves, he’s the thief. He’s stolen over ten thousand dollars.”

He was glad he wasn’t holding anything breakable this time as he slumped backwards in his chair, mouth hanging open, staring at Ms. Edwards. She chuckled and continued, “Professor Dumbledore said you might be surprised, but he failed to convey the depth of your shock. Perhaps he should have talked to you first.” She leaned forward slightly; her smile faded, and her eyes seemed to be attempting to penetrate his soul.

He sincerely hoped she didn’t know Legilimency. As he watched her search his face, he relaxed slightly; he surmised that she didn’t know he was the original Cloaked Vigilante. He finally managed to stammer, “W-why me?”

Her eyes relaxed, and she gave a small smile. “Dumbledore. He mentioned that you might have some unique insight into the situation, and that you had some talents that might be of benefit to our search. He didn’t get into specifics, but I trust his judgment, and I usually accept his recommendations – he gives them so rarely. I was hoping you might enlighten me.”

Harry swallowed and sat up straight. How much should he tell this woman? Would he be arrested? He spoke slowly, considering each word. “Well, I spent a year in the United States recently. So I guess I might understand their language and money and stuff.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Language? They speak English.”

Harry smiled. “Sort of.”

“Anything else I should know?”

He stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then he looked Ms. Edwards in the eye and asked, “Can my next statement stay in this room?”

Her eyes widened, but she returned his direct gaze and said, “Yes.”

He sighed, looked at his shoes, and shrugged. “Sometimes I know things before they happen. Professor Dumbledore thinks I might be a Diviner. I guess he thinks I might be able to predict where the Cloaked Vigilante will strike.” He looked up at Ms. Edwards’ face. She pursed her lips and regarded him shrewdly for a moment before speaking.

“Yes … that explains a lot.” She nodded and continued to stare at him intently. Harry swallowed hard and felt his heart begin to pound.

Her face suddenly returned to a business-like mask, and she began rummaging in her desk drawer. “Okay, I can see why you wouldn’t want the press to find out about that. So I know you’ll appreciate that we don’t want word of this mission leaking out to the press.” Harry nodded and felt himself relax. “The Americans have asked for help, so we’re sending a British Auror to join their Auror. You’ll be along as a consultant of sorts.” She pushed some parchment across her desk toward him. “Here’s some paperwork to complete – you’ll be temporarily in the employ of the Ministry.” She stood, and Harry followed suit. “Let’s go join the briefing.” He grabbed the parchment and followed her into the hall. 

“Dumbledore suggested the British Auror, too,” she said as they walked. “Even though he’s still in training, we decided to send him since you’ve worked together before.” Harry forced a smile in her direction, knowing he was supposed to be pleased, but felt his stomach clench. They walked down a flight of stairs and entered a small conference room where two wizards were seated at a table, talking in low tones. The conversation stopped at their entrance, and they turned toward the door. 

Ron’s stood up slowly. “He’s the consultant?” He walked to Harry and glared at him with angry eyes.

“Yes,” answered Ms. Edwards, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Is there a problem?”

Ron stared at Harry for a long moment, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Finally, he said, “No, there’s no problem,” turned his back on Harry, and retook his seat.

Ms. Edwards took a deep breath. “Okay. Harry, you obviously know Ron Weasley. I don’t believe you’ve met Martin McFly, Head of the Auror Division.” The grey-haired wizard stood partway, and Harry shook his hand.

When they were all seated around the table, Mr. McFly began, “As I was telling Mr. Weasley, the Cloaked Vigilante seemed to be working his way down the East Coast of the United States several months ago. Then, after a month of no activity, he struck in Tulsa, Oklahoma, some fifteen hundred miles from the last strike. Only this time, he was the thief instead of the hero. He’s hit two other places since then, both within sixty miles of Tulsa.”

“How do you know it’s not two different people?” Ron asked, carefully looking away from Harry. “I mean, he’s changed tactics, he’s in a different part of the country; there was a gap in activity…”

“The descriptions of the culprit haven’t changed,” McFly interrupted. “Same clothes, same voice, same height and build.”

Ron looked as though he wanted to argue but kept silent. Harry was grateful that Ron didn’t reveal his secret.

Ms. Edwards looked casually at Harry and said, “Martin, I think we should consider that possibility. The description is vague enough that it could be a copy-cat.”

McFly stared at her open-mouthed for a moment and then said, “An hour ago you agreed with me.”

“Well, I’ve decided we should all be a little more open-minded about the situation.”

He looked at her a moment longer and shrugged. “Well, anyway, the real issue is how to catch him.”

“That’s where Mr. Potter comes in,” she said. “He has some … er … special sleuthing abilities that should be helpful in this situation.”

Harry caught Ron giving him a questioning look; he knew Ron was wondering how much he had told Ms. Edwards.

“What sleuthing abilities?” McFly asked. He looked from Harry to Ms. Edwards. 

Ms. Edwards glanced at Harry; he shook his head ever so slightly. “I’m not at liberty to elaborate,” she said. “But know that Professor Dumbledore highly recommended him for this mission because he thinks he can be of help. You’ll have to take my word on this.”

McFly frowned and narrowed his eyes in annoyance but nodded. “Okay. The Americans sent over written statements from all witnesses and video recordings of the crimes. I suggest you both read the statements this evening, but we don’t seem to have the equipment to watch the video records.”

“Are they VHS tapes?” Harry asked.

The Senior Auror reached under the table and pulled out a video tape. He shrugged and handed it to Harry. As Harry examined it, Ron spoke, “We can watch them at our flat. Why don’t you come over tonight around seven, Harry? We can order a pizza, watch the tapes, and read through the statements.” Harry nodded in Ron’s direction.

Mr. McFly put both hands on the table and stood. “Well, I think we’re finished for now. I need the two of you back here tomorrow for a final briefing at two o’clock; then you’ll floo to Washington to meet your partner.”

They all began to exit the room. Harry felt a hand on his elbow and heard a quiet voice in his ear. “Can I have a word?” asked Ms. Edwards.

She waited for the others to leave and shut the door. He spoke before she could. “Thank you so much for keeping quiet …”

“Mr. Potter,” she interrupted, frowning and shaking her head, “I really don’t like keeping my people in the dark, but this is a personal issue for you, and I respect your privacy. I’m walking a thin line here, and so are you.”

Harry looked at the floor and said, “Ms. Edwards, about the Cloaked Vigilante …”

“No. Don’t tell me anything. I have my suspicions, but as long as you don’t confirm them, I don’t know anything. If my suspicions were confirmed, we would both be in a very awkward position. Is that clear?”

He looked at her with wide eyes and nodded, not sure whether to feel relieved. “I just wanted you to know that I’m trusting you only because of my faith in Dumbledore,” she continued. “If you let me down, you’re letting him down more. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” Harry replied. He didn’t know what else to say to that, but he understood that if he botched this mission, Ms. Edwards would have trouble trusting Dumbledore again.

“One more thing,” she said. “You need to consider telling the American Auror the … things that relate to this mission. I got the impression Mr. Weasley already knows, but it’s going to be difficult for you to work as a team if you’re not all fully informed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry answered curtly.

Ms. Edwards nodded and opened the door. “Good luck,” she said as they left the room.

He made his way down the rows of cubicles, looking for Ron’s, not sure if he wanted to apologize, thank him, or throw him up against a wall. He found him sitting behind his desk, absorbed in the parchment in front of him. “Ron …” Harry began. He paused, not knowing how to continue.

Ron sighed but didn’t look up from his desk. “Look, Harry, I’ve got a lot of paperwork to finish since I’m going out of town. I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

“But …”

Ron looked up at him. The cold mask had slipped a little, and Harry could see the pain in his eyes behind it. “I’ll see you tonight, Harry,” he said with finality. Ron’s head dropped down to his work, and Harry stared at the top of his head for a moment before turning to leave.

Harry slowly made his way out of the Ministry of Magic, almost forgetting to turn in his visitor badge. He concentrated on his shoes as he walked to avoid the double-takes of passerby and breathed a huge sigh of relief when he finally reached the Apparation point and transported himself home.

Home. Harry was finally beginning to think of his flat as his home. He had gradually acquired several pieces of art that he liked, not paintings of flowers and apples like the Dursleys had hanging in their house, but angry, abstract swirls of dark colors. He couldn’t explain it, but the paintings seemed to comfort him, possibly because they were proof he wasn’t the only person who experienced pain. He realized his therapist would probably have a heyday explaining Harry’s attraction to such art.

The refrigerator was always well stocked with butterbeer, if not always food. Harry grabbed a bottle, walked back to the living room, and flopped on the sofa. He fished around in the cushions for the remote control and flipped on the television, searching for something to grab his interest. After a few minutes, he slammed down the remote in frustration.

His eyes wandered to the painting over the fireplace, a swirling mass of grey, violet, and blue. He pulled out his wand and muttered an incantation, and the colors began to move in a close approximation of angry storm clouds, perfect for his mood. He stared for a long time, willing himself to become hypnotized by the motion so he could forget.

Of course, a person can’t will themselves to be hypnotized, and Harry eventually found his eyes wandering below the painting to the fireplace mantle. It was covered with pictures of his two best friends; some were smiling, waving wizard photos, and the rest were frozen Muggle shots. The most recent were the pictures from the wedding. Harry’s eyes filled with tears as he stared at Ron, who was glowing with happiness. He berated himself yet again for his harsh, careless words that had caused the strain in their friendship and wondered what he could do to fix it.

He turned his focus to Hermione. She was beautiful in her wedding gown, and her face also radiated joy. She loves him, he thought. How could I doubt it? They belong together. I’m a selfish prat who deserves no one. Harry didn’t bother to check the tears that trickled down his face.

His eyes wandered to the photo of the bride and groom with the best man and maid of honor. He brushed angrily at his eyes to clear the fog and focused on Ginny. A different emotion began to creep into his midsection. In another person, this feeling might have caused a calming peace, but in Harry, the sensation caused confusion and despair.

His thoughts turned longingly to the liquor store around the corner. It would be such a relief to be numb. But no, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t do it. He had to go to Ron and Hermione’s tonight, and alcohol had caused this whole mess. Three faces began to swirl in his head as he stood up, clenching his fists at his sides, straining against the overwhelming desire for a drink.

In the end, the three faces of the people he had hurt most were what gave him the strength to toss the Floo powder in the fireplace instead of Apparating to the liquor store. He cleared his throat and shouted, “Dr. Wilson’s office!”

 

*************************************************

Harry’s stomach was doing flip flops as he knocked on the Weasleys’ door. The meeting at the Ministry earlier had been the first time he’d seen Ron since their argument, and it was obvious Ron was still seething. Harry was hoping to get a moment alone with him this evening, even though he had no idea what to say. The pain of Ron’s anger was almost unbearable.

Ron opened the door, his eyes still hard, guarded. He stepped back to let Harry in and looked at his shoes. Harry murmured an awkward greeting and shuffled into the flat.

Upon entering, Harry immediately noticed a wonderful aroma. “Something smells good,” he commented, glad to have stumbled on a neutral topic of conversation. “I thought we were ordering pizza. What’s that?”

“Hermione’s baking cookies,” Ron explained.

Harry shook his head and walked toward the kitchen. “Oi, Hermione, I thought you couldn’t cook.”

Hermione walked out of the kitchen, wearing an apron over her jumper and jeans. Her apron was sprinkled with flour, and there was a white smudge on her face. Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful and then reminded himself he wasn’t supposed to be having such thoughts. She put one hand on her hip and gave him an exasperated look. “Harry! Cooking and baking are two different things. Baking is more exact, like potions.” Harry cocked his head, completely bewildered. Hermione shook her head and said, “I’d better get back to the cookies – don’t want to burn them!”

Ron followed Hermione into the kitchen. Harry sat on the sofa and flipped through television channels until the doorbell rang. He answered the door and insisted on paying for the pizza. Ron agreed readily, which surprised Harry; his pride usually prevented him from accepting anything.

Even though they kept to safe topics during dinner, the conversation was somewhat stilted. Harry tortured himself wondering if Hermione knew about the fight. Her manner toward him seemed as easy as ever, but her smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes. He was grateful, however, for her presence; she kept the mood light and the dialogue going, and he wasn’t anxious to be alone with Ron.

When Hermione brought in a plate of warm cookies after dinner, which they all agreed were delicious, Harry felt they could no longer postpone talking about the mission. “Ron, about this trip…”

“How much did you tell Ms. Edwards?” Ron interrupted.

“Oh. Well, only that I spent the last year in the States and about the divination stuff. But I think she suspects that I was the Cloaked Vigilante.”

Ron nodded. “That explains her sudden reversal on the copycat theory.”

Harry watched his hand toying with his plate. “She … er … suggested that we should tell your American partner what we know. Have you met him yet?”

“Her. And no, I haven’t. McFly just told me her name. I’ve got it written down in my file somewhere…”

“How much do you think we should tell her?”

Hermione spoke up. “Harry, this is your life we’re talking about. You could go to Azkaban! I don’t think you should tell her anything.”

He shrugged and looked at Hermione. “I’d rather not, but how are we going to explain why I’m there, and how I know where to look?”

“You two are talking about different things, Harry,” said Ron. “I think you should tell her about the divination but not the Cloaked Vigilante. I don’t think it will make any difference since we’re definitely looking for a different guy now anyway.”

“You’re right,” said Harry, looking at Ron. “Okay, we’re agreed, then, we don’t tell her I was the original Cloaked Vigilante.”

“Agreed,” said Ron and Hermione together.

Harry looked at Hermione, eyebrows drawn together in suspicion. “You’re not going, are you?”

“Of course not,” Hermione said a little too quickly. “I’m not exactly invited, am I?”

Harry continued his examination of Hermione’s eyes, trying to read her intentions, until Ron cleared his throat. Harry’s eyes flew to Ron’s face which was smoldering with anger. He refrained, with difficulty, from rolling his eyes. 

Ron cleared his throat again. “So, Harry, how are you going to find this guy?”

Harry looked down at his plate again. “I’m not sure. I’m going to talk to Snape and Dumbledore tomorrow – see if they have any ideas. I always had the predictions in dreams before, so maybe I just need to sleep. Maybe I’ll see where he’s going to strike next that way.”

“Let me know if they have any ideas,” Ron said. He stood up and put the first video tape in the player.

They moved to the sofa to watch the surveillance videos. About halfway through the second tape, Harry said, “Freeze it there!”

Ron fumbled around for the remote control and pushed the pause button. “No,” Harry said, “back it up.”

He watched as the tape reversed to just before the perpetrator drew his wand. “Okay, forward.” Ron complied, and Harry yelled, “Freeze!” as the Cloaked Vigilante cast his spell. He got up, walked to the television, and bent over to examine the screen.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione.

“The wand,” said Harry. “It’s familiar.” He stared at the screen, unaware that he was rubbing his shoulder.

Ron joined him, studied the wand, and looked at Harry. “Harry,” he said slowly, “are you rubbing your Unforgivable scar?”

Harry looked at his shoulder in shock. “I am.” He looked back at the television and then at Ron.

“Malfoy,” they said at the same time.

Hermione gasped, causing Ron and Harry to turn and face her. “How can you be sure? I thought he was dead.”

“No, the Ministry doesn’t think so,” said Ron. “A body was never found. His mother still lives in their mansion, and she hasn’t had a memorial service or anything. We think he and his father have been in hiding since Voldemort died, but Narcissa won’t spill their whereabouts.”

Harry turned back to the television. “There’s no way to be sure, since he’s covered by that cloak, but this person looks to be the right height and build. Ron and I certainly saw that wand plenty of times. And don’t you think it’s interesting that I started rubbing the scar he gave me when I saw the wand? I think my subconscious knew it was Malfoy’s wand right away.”

“Well, that’s not very conclusive,” said Hermione.

“You know,” Harry said, looking at his shoes, “there is a way we could know for sure.” He paused for a moment and then whispered, “Is there a scar on his right hand?”

Ron gave Harry a long, solemn look and then turned back to the television. Together, they watched the tape carefully, but it appeared the culprit was wearing gloves.

Harry sighed. “Well, it doesn’t really matter if we’re right about Malfoy – we still have to catch the guy. Right, Ron?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “But if it is Malfoy, it might make it easier to predict what he’ll do since we know him.”

They watched all the tapes at least twice, paying close attention to the wand and right hand of the perpetrator, but didn’t find any solid evidence that the Cloaked Vigilante was Draco Malfoy. They finally gave up, and Harry stood to leave. Hermione said goodnight and wandered toward the bedroom.

Harry grasped Ron’s arm. “Listen, Ron…” he began.

Ron turned and pulled his arm gently out of Harry’s grasp. “Harry, I know we need to talk but not yet. Okay?”

Harry searched Ron’s eyes but couldn’t read them. He looked at the floor to hide his tears, shrugged, and walked out the door.

***************************************

Harry spent the early part of the next morning at Hogwarts, meeting first with Professor Snape, then Remus, and finally with Professor Dumbledore. He barely arrived in time for his eleven o’clock appointment with Dr. Wilson.

Now he was slumping in a chair across from her desk, feeling defeated. He had talked to the doctor about the war and his nightmares, but today he had finally gotten the nerve to tell her about his feelings for Hermione. He knew he had to sort this out in his mind before he went on the trip with Ron, so he told her about their argument and asked her what to do. He was really starting to wonder if their friendship would survive.

Dr. Wilson leaned back in her chair and said, “Well, you know you should talk to Ron, I don’t need to tell you that. What’s more important to you – your friendship or your feelings for Hermione?”

“Our friendship,” Harry answered without thinking, surprising himself.

“Why?”

Harry stared at the doctor for a moment and then studied a crack in the ceiling. “I guess because there’s no future in my feelings for Hermione. They’re married, and they love each other.”

“Try again,” said Dr. Wilson. Harry gave her a puzzled look. She shook her head slowly and said, “You just gave me a logical answer. When you told me your friendship with Ron was more important than your feelings for Hermione, you said it without thinking – it was from your heart. So I ask you again – why? Answer from your heart this time.”

Harry thought about that for a few moments and shrugged. “I don’t know – I guess maybe Ron’s more important to me in a way?”

“Tell him that. Apologize, but also tell him how important his friendship is to you.”

Harry nodded, absently pulling on the leg of his jeans. “You know,” he said slowly, “to be honest, I’m kind of confused about my feelings for Hermione. I mean, how can I be in love with her if I’m attracted to other women?”

Dr. Wilson leaned forward in her chair and looked at him intently. “You’ve been friends with Hermione a long time.”

“Since we were eleven.”

The doctor’s eyes continued to bore into his skull. “Have you been in love before?”

Harry looked at the ceiling as he considered that. He’d had a silly crush on Cho Chang; that certainly wasn’t love. “No, only her.”

“Maybe you’re just so comfortable with Hermione that you’re only imagining you’re in love.” Harry sat up straight in his chair. A few weeks ago, he would have never even considered the possibility. But now he found himself critically analyzing his feelings for Hermione, especially in light of other feelings he was realizing.

“But I feel jealous that she’s with Ron,” he said.

Dr. Wilson shrugged. “Well, I’ll bet it changed your friendship a bit when they became a couple. Now they’re closer to each other than they are to you. If you really think about it, your jealous feelings might also be about losing part of Ron’s time and attention.”

Harry slumped back in his chair again. “Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about,” he said.

She smiled. “I’m glad I’m earning my fees.”

*********************************************

Harry arrived at the Ministry to find Ron alone in the conference room. Ron glanced at Harry, looked away, and then looked more closely with a startled expression. He said, “Where are your glasses?”

Harry’s hand automatically went to the bridge of his nose, and he smiled. “Snape gave me a potion this morning. Cured my eyesight.”

Ron eyes widened in astonishment, and he shook his head. “Why didn’t he give it to you years ago?”

Harry shrugged and gave a small laugh. “I asked him that. He said I never asked. I think it’s a power thing with him.”

“Slimy git,” Ron said under his breath.

Harry turned away to drop his overnight bag on the floor and noticed an extra bag. “Who’s going with us?” he asked.

Ron shook his head and seemed to be avoiding Harry’s eyes. “No one. Just the two of us.”

Harry looked quizzically at Ron’s two large suitcases, mentally comparing them to his one small duffel bag. Ron was also taking his owl, he noticed, which was unnecessary; they would have other ways to contact the Ministry. Then he noticed the owl in the cage.

It wasn’t Pigwidgeon.

“Are you crazy?” Harry hissed. “Are you completely insane?”

Ron gave Harry a resigned look. “She insisted. She kept going on and on about it, and I finally agreed just to shut her up.”

Harry shook his head at Ron in disbelief. “Won’t you get in huge trouble?”

“Not if you don’t tell. Besides …” Ron grabbed Harry’s left arm and pushed up the sleeve, revealing Harry’s pet snake coiled around his arm. “… you brought Sonora.”

“That’s totally different, and you know it!” Harry and Ron sprang apart as the door opened and Mr. McFly and Ms. Edwards entered the room.

The meeting was brief and to the point, which appeared to be McFly’s modus operandi. Since this was Ron’s first mission and Harry was new to the Ministry, the Senior Auror summarized pertinent regulations and handed Harry a slim manual. Then he handed Ron a thin leather case, which Harry assumed was another book until Ron opened it, pulling out a mirror. Harry felt a pain in his chest.

“Use the mirror to contact me,” McFly said. “I expect to hear from you at least once a day. Although you’re free to call me any time, if it’s not an emergency, please remember the time difference.” He smiled grimly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Harry looked up and realized Ron was watching him, obviously concerned. He figured he must have gone pale or something, so he forced a small smile and gave a slight nod. He hadn’t ever told Ron about Sirius’s mirror, and this wasn’t the time.

McFly’s eyes darted between the two, but he continued, “Mr. Weasley, you don’t need to take your owl.”

“I wasn’t taking her for communication,” Ron protested. “I just didn’t want to leave her alone – who would feed her?” Harry bowed his head to hide his smile. 

“Don’t you have a wife and a large family?” McFly asked suspiciously. “Surely someone could take care of her.”

Ron shrugged and stammered. “She just doesn’t respond well to anyone else,” he finally said.

Harry couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped his lips. He just barely stopped a gasp when he felt the sharp jab in his calf from Ron’s foot.

In the end, McFly let Ron take the owl. Harry and Ron grabbed their gear and took the Floo to the American Ministry of Magic in Washington, D.C. They were greeted by a mass of blonde hair with a small, beaming face in the center.

“Hello!” said the witch, grabbing one of their bags with one hand and helping Ron to his feet with the other. “I’m Samantha Landers, Head of the Auror Department.” She pulled out her wand and charmed their robes to remove the ashes then turned, beckoning them to follow.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, a little bewildered, and followed her down a long hallway to a large conference room. She stopped at the door and waved them in. “Help yourselves,” she said, waving her arm to indicate a table along the wall. “I’ll go see if Lisa’s here yet.” She pulled the door shut and left them alone.

“Excellent! Food!” Ron exclaimed, reaching the buffet table in a few long strides. “Hey, it’s all breakfast stuff.”

Harry joined Ron at the table and examined the muffins, bagels, and coffee. Harry shrugged and said, “Well, you realize it’s only eight o’clock in the morning here.”

“Oh, yeah. Well. Whatever.” He grabbed a napkin and loaded it with as much food as he could carry and took it to the conference table. Then he returned and made a cup of tea.

Harry watched him with amusement, wondering if his appetite would ever diminish. Then he turned to the table and selected a cinnamon raisin bagel and coffee. As he was sitting down next to Ron, the door opened slowly, and a dark-haired witch poked her head around it. “Hey,” she whispered, “are you the British Aurors?”

“Yeah,” Ron said around a mouthful of muffin.

“Good. Be right back.” The head disappeared and the door closed but almost immediately reopened. “Wait,” the witch said. “Is there coffee in here?”

Ron swallowed his morsel. “Yeah.”

She stepped into the room and almost ran to the buffet table. “Wow! They rolled out the red carpet for you guys.” She poured a cup of coffee, added liberal amounts of cream and sugar, and sat down across from Ron. “I’m Lisa Gomez, by the way,” she said as she stirred. “I think we’re going to be working together.”

“Ron Weasley.” As he said this, he stood up and extended his hand. Lisa’s eyes widened to the point that Harry wondered if they could contain her eyeballs. He couldn’t help smiling to himself; it was the first time Ron had been recognized instead of him.

Lisa recovered quickly, rose, and shook Ron’s hand. “I’ve read about your work against Voldemort, Mr. Weasley. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

“Thanks,” said Ron, pink with pleasure. “But please call me Ron. And it’s nice to meet you, too.”

She turned to Harry. “And you are…?”

“I’m not an Auror; I’m just the sidekick.” Harry smirked as he stood and extended his hand. Ron snickered; he was obviously enjoying this. “Harry Potter. Nice to meet you.”

Lisa drew in a sharp breath and stared. After a moment she managed to stammer, “B-but you d-don’t have your … your glasses! I’m so sorry – I didn’t recognize you!”

It was so refreshing to not be immediately recognized that Harry forgot to be annoyed at being treated like a celebrity. “I just had my vision corrected this morning. I don’t need glasses any more.” He smiled as she absentmindedly took his extended hand. “And don’t even think about calling me Mr. Potter – it’s Harry.” He shook her hand, gently pulled away, and sat down. 

Her arm floated down to her side, and she sank slowly into her chair as she continued to stare at Harry with a bewildered look. Then her eyes widened suddenly, and she looked down at her coffee, as if she had realized she was staring. Harry looked at Ron with narrowed eyes, and Ron gave a small shrug.

In the awkward silence that followed, Harry pretended to focus on his bagel while he covertly examined Lisa. She had straight black hair that stopped at her chin, olive skin, and eyes so brown it was difficult to distinguish the pupils. Her face was plain, but not unpleasant, and she was dressed in Muggle clothing. She concentrated on her coffee, stirring furiously as he watched.

Harry breathed a small sigh of relief when the door opened again and several wizards and witches entered the room, including Ms. Landers, the witch who had escorted them to the conference room. He watched Lisa look up at Ms. Landers and silently mouth, “I’m going to kill you.” Harry’s eyes widened as he looked for Ms. Landers’ reaction. She only smirked at Lisa, her eyes dancing with repressed laughter. Harry was so shocked at the familiarity between Lisa and her supervisor that he didn’t think to wonder what the exchange was about.

Lisa avoided looking at Harry and Ron throughout the meeting. Harry began to get irritated; he had never met someone quite so star struck by his fame. He hoped she would get over it quickly so they could work together effectively.

*********************************************

AUTHOR’S NOTES:

I know this chapter was a little boring, but it was necessary for transition. Hang in there with me! Next chapter we check in with the Malfoys.

Yes, I borrowed the name “Martin McFly” from the “Back to the Future” movie series. It was a whim.

Yes, I realize you can be in love with someone and be attracted to someone else, but Dr. Edwards told Harry what he needed to hear.


	8. Compulsion

“So, what’s your owl’s name?” Lisa asked Ron from the front seat of the taxi.

Harry was sitting with Ron in the back seat, the owl’s cage perched between them. He raised his eyebrows at Ron, wondering what he would say. Ron hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Pigwidgeon, but I call him ‘Pig’ for short.” Harry had to suppress a snicker; Ron’s statement was certainly true, it just didn’t apply to the owl between them.

This was the first chance Lisa had to ask about the owl; they had been in meetings all morning at the American Ministry of Magic in Washington, D.C. After lunch, they traveled by Floo to the wizarding district in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and were now taking a Muggle taxi to the airport to rent a car.

Despite the fact that it was only mid-afternoon, Harry was exhausted, and he noticed Ron looked knackered, too. In Britain it was late evening, so they had already had a long day. Harry desperately wanted to check into a hotel and get some sleep as quickly as possible, but he knew he needed to stay up as long as he could to combat what American Muggles called “jet lag.”

When they arrived at the airport, Harry paid the cabbie, and they lugged their baggage inside, ignoring the strange looks they received for traveling with an owl. Lisa glanced around the airport and scowled at Ron. “I wish you hadn’t brought Pig. He’s making us conspicuous.”

Harry was dying to say, “He didn’t,” but he kept his mouth shut and turned away to hide his grin.

“Sorry,” Ron said, giving the owl a dirty look. “She can stay in our hotel room from now on.” The owl hooted loudly in protest. Ron widened his eyes in alarm and hissed, “Shut up!”

“She?” Lisa asked. “I thought the owl was male.” Harry felt a stab of fear, which was reflected in Ron’s face.

Ron recovered quickly. He shrugged and said, “Oh … yeah.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes at both of them, but they distracted her by debating which car to rent as they reached the counter. Ron was extolling the virtues of a Mitsubishi Eclipse when she sighed in irritation and interrupted the dispute.

“A sports car will be too small,” she said, looking at Ron.

“But we can ch-“ Ron stopped as Lisa inclined her head and bugged her eyes in warning; Harry suspected he was going to suggest they charm the car to make it larger on the inside.

She turned to Harry. “And we don’t need an SUV – there’s only three of us, and we’re on a tight budget.”

Harry gave her what he hoped was his most charming grin. “You never know what we might need. I’ll cover the difference.”

“What are you – Midas?” she asked, as she searched through her purse for her wallet.

“Pretty much,” Ron growled under his breath.

“Well, I’m the only one with an American driver’s license, and I don’t want to drive a truck.” Lisa folded her arms and leaned back in a posture of defiance.

Harry fished in his pocket, pulled something out, and said, “No, I’ve got one, too.” He gave her a huge grin, handed the license to the clerk, and requested a Ford Explorer.

When he had finished the paperwork and paid, the clerk handed Harry the key and said, “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Black.” They turned to walk away, and Lisa grabbed Harry’s license before he could pocket it.

Once they were safely in the car, Lisa gave Harry a furious look. “You just rented a car with a fake ID!”

“Sorry, but I don’t like to advertise my name – it’s amazing how many Muggles remember hearing it somewhere.” Harry focused on backing the car to avoid Lisa’s eyes.

“Wait … that’s where you were! You were here!” she shouted.

Harry looked at her, mortified, while Ron snickered from the back seat. “What do you mean?” he asked in a small voice.

“When you disappeared for a year – you were here, in the U.S., weren’t you?”

Harry shrugged and focused on the road. “Yeah. That’s why I used the false name. I wanted to disappear for awhile.”

She examined the license. “Clever - James after your father and Black after your godfather. But I know you were born in 1980, not 1976.”

He looked at her, eyes wide, shocked that she knew so much about him. “Yeah,” he said slowly, turning his gaze back to the road, “I was born in 1980, but you have to be twenty-one to buy alcohol here.” He extended his right hand toward her, keeping the left one on the wheel. Lisa handed the license back reluctantly as he pulled into the parking lot of the Ramada Inn on the airport grounds.

Lisa got two rooms next to each other, intending for Ron and Harry to share. Harry planned to get his own room but didn’t want her to get suspicious, so he followed Ron into his room after she shut her door. He figured he could sneak down to the lobby for another room later.

Ron dropped his bags and turned his attention to the owl as soon as the door was closed. He opened the cage, pulled the owl out, and gently caressed her feathers. “It’s okay, love,” he whispered. “You’re out of that cage now.” Harry rolled his eyes in disgust as Ron kissed her on the beak and set her carefully on the bed.

When Hermione had changed back to her human form, Harry put his hands on his hips and said, “What do you think you’re doing here?”

She did not answer but stood and stretched herself in every imaginable direction, groaning as she worked out the kinks in her joints. “Merlin, it’s good to get out of there! I’ll be much nicer to Pig from now on.”

When she stopped stretching and started smoothing her clothes, Harry took a step closer and said, “Hermione, I asked you a question.”

“I thought you two could use my help. Besides, I can’t go back now, so what difference does it make?”

Harry shook his head. “That’s not good enough. You know you could get Ron fired?”

Ron moved between Harry and Hermione, facing Harry with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes were hurt and angry. “Since when do you worry about rules?” he asked. “And since when do you care about me?”

That stung. Harry turned away and said, “I’m going to get my own room. I’m sure you two don’t want me sleeping in here.”

He chanced a glance back at Ron. Ron shrugged and turned to take Hermione in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked as he stroked her hair. “That was a long time to be in your animal form.”

“Yes, I’m fine, but I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Want me to bring you a dead mouse?” Ron asked.

Harry saw Hermione wrinkle her nose over Ron’s shoulder, but then she giggled. When Ron started chuckling, Harry rolled his eyes, shook his head, and walked to the door. He stopped just before he opened it. “Listen you two, order whatever you want from room service. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Thanks, Harry,” called Hermione, still in Ron’s embrace. Harry left the room and went downstairs.

Harry requested the room next to Ron’s, and luckily, it was vacant. As he walked back upstairs, it occurred to him that Lisa would probably come looking for them as it neared dinnertime. He decided he’d better prevent an uncomfortable situation.

When he knocked, she opened the door just enough to peek around with her toweled head. “Harry,” she said, blushing. “I just took a shower. Can you give me a few minutes?”

“Er … Sorry … I just wanted to see if you wanted to get something to eat.”

“Where’s Ron?”

Harry thought quickly. “He’s in his roo- … our room. He’s really knackered – I think he’s just going to order from room service and go to bed early.” He rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet nervously.

She pulled her eyebrows together, puzzled. “Knackered? Oh, tired. He needs to stay up and get used to the time difference.”

“Er … he’ll get used to it tomorrow.” Harry wrung his hands together; he had never been the best liar. “So … do you want to go? There’s only one car, and we can explore the city a little – might be helpful to our mission.”

Lisa smiled. “I grew up here, so I know the city pretty well. But if you give me a few minutes, we can go get dinner. I’ll come knock on your door when I’m ready.”

“No!” Harry said quickly. She looked startled, so he said, “Er … you might … um … wake up Ron. I’ll just wait out here in the hall.”

She gave him a strange look, half puzzled, half suspicious, but then shrugged and closed the door.

******************************************

Lisa directed Harry to an authentic Mexican restaurant in midtown Tulsa. Over delicious tamales, Harry coaxed Lisa to tell him about her childhood. She had grown up as a Muggle, but found out her mother was a witch when she got her invitation to an American Wizarding school. Lisa knew Harry had grown up with Muggles, so they compared notes on what it was like to find out they were magical at age eleven.

It was a little disturbing to Harry that Lisa knew so much about him, especially since she didn’t live in Britain. He commented that he was surprised that the American press printed so many facts about him.

She reddened and stared at her plate. “They don’t,” she whispered. “I-I started taking the Daily Prophet when you were in the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts.”

His shock must have been evident on his face, because when she finally looked at him, her expression became a little fearful. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I hope you don’t think I’m a freak or stalking you or something. I’ve just been fascinated with your story for years. I never thought I would actually meet you. Samantha – my boss – she knew you and Ron were coming, but she didn’t tell me. I think she thought it would be funny to see my reaction.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that, so he took a sip of his drink and wiped his mouth. When he looked up, he saw Lisa watching him intently. She looked at her plate and said, “I’m sorry – you don’t really like being a celebrity, do you? I’m making you uncomfortable.”

Her face looked so miserable that Harry couldn’t help saying, “No, it’s okay. Just treat me like a normal human being from now on, okay?”

She gave him a wobbly smile. When he returned it, it became more firm. He shook his head once, gave a bitter laugh, and said, “You know, what bothers me most about this is the fact that most of the Daily Prophet articles were very misleading. They printed what sounded good at the time – they cared more about selling papers and making the Ministry look good than telling the truth. I’ll bet a lot of your ‘facts’ are false.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, looking thoughtful. “Like that summer that they tried to deny Voldemort was back – they made you out to be a liar.”

“Exactly.”

“What else did they print that was false?”

“A lot of things.” Harry cast around in his head for another topic. “So … where do your parents live now?”

It was still early after dinner, so they drove around town under Lisa’s direction. When it got too dark for sightseeing, they returned to the hotel. Harry made a show of seeing Lisa to her room since he wanted her to think he was still sharing with Ron. But he didn’t see her walk out of her room moments later with her ice bucket and stare curiously as he slipped into the room next to Ron’s.

****************************************************

The insistent ringing of the phone woke Harry up early the next morning. “Hello?” he croaked into the receiver.

Ron’s urgent voice whispered, “Harry, Lisa’s just outside my door. You’ve got to get over here. I’ll tell her you went for a walk, okay?”

Harry sighed heavily; he would have to shower later. He groaned into the phone and managed, “Okay,” before slamming down the receiver.

He dressed quickly and went next door, thankful that Ron had left the door ajar so he wouldn’t have to reveal that he didn’t have a key. Ron and Lisa were sitting at the small table, sipping coffee. Hermione the owl was perched atop the television. “Morning, Lisa,” Harry said as he shut the door.

“Good morning. Did you have a good walk?” Lisa asked this question sarcastically, causing Harry to give her a puzzled look.

“Yeah … thanks.” Harry walked over the table and took an empty chair. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Lisa set her cup down awkwardly, sloshing some coffee onto the table. She pulled her wand from her pocket and muttered a charm to clean up the dark puddle. “Um …” she began, staring at her coffee, “there’s something … I uh … need to talk to you about.” She glanced at Ron and looked away quickly.

The men stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to continue. Ron finally prompted, “Yes?”

“Well … Ron …” Her words started tumbling out, one on top of another. “My gosh, you just got married … your wife’s thousands of miles away … of course, it’s not my place to judge ... I don’t know where you found a woman so quickly … you really need to learn to use a Silencing Charm!”

She finally paused to take a breath. Harry was fighting not to laugh and losing the battle. His hand was covering his mouth, and he was shaking in silent mirth. Ron was staring at his coffee, his skin a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Harry began to laugh out loud at the angry, puzzled expression on Lisa’s face. He looked at Ron and managed, “Having … trouble … with charms … mate?”

At that, Hermione flew over to Harry, landing neatly on his shoulder, and began pecking his arm and hooting angrily. Harry stopped laughing. “Ouch! What did I do?” He batted at the owl with his uninjured arm. “Stop it!”

“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Lisa demanded, the hesitancy gone from her voice. “You kept me awake half the night!”

Harry caught Ron’s eye. “What do you think?” Ron asked.

“We can’t have her thinking you cheat on your wife.”

“Will she turn us in?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t think so.” He turned to Lisa. “You won’t turn us in, will you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Harry nodded at Hermione, who had stopped pecking at his arm. She flew to the bed, transformed into a human, and said, “Next time I’m casting the Silencing Charm, Ron!”

Lisa’s eyes opened wide. She leaned forward, placed her hands on the table, and hoisted herself into a partial standing position. “Wow! That is so cool! I’ve never seen an Animagus transformation before!”

That wasn’t the reaction Harry was expecting. He wondered what happened to the righteous indignation from earlier in the conversation. He stammered, “You’ve never seen one?”

Lisa continued to stare at Hermione. “No, they’re illegal in the United States.” She stood up straight and approached the other witch cautiously. “I guess it’s not illegal in Britain.”

“No,” Hermione said, “but an Animagus is supposed to be registered with the Ministry of Magic.”

“Oh.” Lisa seemed to recover herself. “Hermione Granger, I presume? I mean Weasley, of course.”

Hermione held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Lisa.” Lisa shook her hand firmly. “You won’t turn us in, will you?”

Lisa gasped; she seemed to suddenly realize the situation. “Wait … what are you doing here? This is an Official Ministry Mission! And you’re not registered, are you? Oh, Merlin, we’re going to be in so much trouble!” She slumped onto the bed with a defeated posture.

Ron, whose skin had faded to its normal color, stood up and approached the bed. “Lisa, we won’t get into trouble if you don’t tell anyone.”

“Can you please keep this to yourself?” Harry asked in what he hoped was a pleading voice.

Lisa shook her head and let out a huge breath. “Well … I guess it could come in handy … in surveillance …”

“Yeah,” Harry encouraged, “and just think – you know something about us that the press doesn’t know!” He squirmed a little as he made that point, but he suspected it might convince her to keep quiet.

“Okay, okay.” Lisa looked at each of them in turn. “But is there anything else I need to know?”

Ron and Harry looked at each other. “Well,” Ron said, “she’s right – it would come in handy for stakeouts.”

Harry nodded, and the next second the two wizards were replaced with a stag and a toad. Lisa gasped but then said, “Well, I guess I should have expected that.”

Harry and Ron changed back, and then the four sat around the table. Ron picked up the telephone and ordered breakfast while Harry described his Divination skills to Lisa.

“So you can read people’s intentions – predict what they’re going to do,” Lisa mused aloud.

Harry shrugged. “It seems so,” he said. “Whenever I confronted Voldemort, I always acted without thinking – on instinct. Or so it seemed. My tutor thinks now that I was reading Voldemort’s intentions, and that the gift was enhanced by my strong emotions at the time. I’m learning to focus my thoughts and emotions towards specific people.”

“That sounds more like Legilimency than Divination,” countered Hermione.

“Maybe,” Harry acknowledged, “but so far my readings have all been about future events.” He shrugged again. “Maybe it’s a combination of the two. I haven’t made any prophecies, like people associate with Divination, but I can’t read people’s thoughts, like people associate with Legilimency.”

Ron hung up the telephone and turned back to the group. “The point is, Harry should be able to predict where the Cloaked Vigilante will strike next, and we can be there to apprehend him.” He looked at Lisa. “We also need to let you know that we have a suspect, based on the surveillance tapes your Ministry sent over. We think the Cloaked Vigilante might be Draco Malfoy, one of our classmates from Hogwarts. He’s a known Death Eater, but he disappeared the night Voldemort died.”

*****************************

Draco jerked the Extendable Ears from his head and threw them to the floor in disgust, angered by the sounds of copulation emanating from the adjoining room. He was developing quite a list of reasons to hate his father; his shagging of the Lestrange woman added one more.

He threw himself face down on the bed and imagined his mother sitting alone in their mansion, wondering where they were, wondering if they were even alive. His father pretended he didn’t even have a wife and that Draco didn’t have a mother. Lucius hadn’t contacted her at all since Voldemort was killed, and he had forbidden Draco to contact her, but Draco had managed to owl her a few times without his father’s knowledge. It comforted him slightly that she knew they didn’t die with Voldemort, but he longed to see her again.

He also hated his father for making him steal money from the Muggles to support his lavish lifestyle. It was so banal, robbing petrol stations like a common thief. Lucius made him do the dirty work while he ate lobster dinners and drank champagne with Bellatrix Lestrange.

Draco suddenly remembered the Extendable Ears; it would be disastrous if his father found them. He rolled off the bed into a standing position, picked them up gently, and rolled them up, hiding them carefully in the secret pocket he had charmed into his slacks. He hated to admit the Weasleys were useful for anything, but these gadgets had really come in handy. He remembered the conversation he had overheard two days ago, the real reason his father was making him research Remington sculptures.

One of the sculptures was supposed to have a crystal imbedded in its base that would give the bearer enhanced magical powers. Even though Remington had been a wizard, he had only sold his art in the Muggle world, so Draco had to do his research in Muggle libraries. He had already discovered that the sculpture his father wanted was in the Gilcrease Museum in Tulsa, but he wasn’t ready to share that information just yet.

In all honesty, Draco wasn’t sure the crystal even existed or that Remington was really a wizard. It sounded like an implausible legend to him. The so-called “enhanced powers” the crystal imparted were only vaguely defined. But for now, his objective was to stall his father as long as possible and to figure out how to get himself out of this mess.

***********************************

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lisa were bored. They were waiting for Harry to have a premonition of the Cloaked Vigilante’s next strike. They had spent hours discussing surveillance tactics and sharing life stories. They had watched countless television programs and movies. Now Lisa was teaching them how to play the Muggle game called “Sorry,” which she had transfigured from the room’s coffeepot and coffee supplies.

The game was not going well for Ron, which was unfortunate since he was the only one who was competitive enough to care about the outcome. Two of his four yellow pieces were still stuck in “start,” while his three opponents each had at least three pieces in play. On his turn, he drew a “four.” He cursed and then added, “Not only can I not start another piece, but I have to move backwards!”

“Is he always this way about games?” Lisa asked, looking at Hermione with a little alarm.

Hermione laughed gently and reached over to rub Ron’s shoulder. “She’s right, love, it’s just a game. Don’t take it so seriously.”

“Easy for you to say,” Ron grumbled as he slammed his game piece backward four squares. “You’ve got all four of your pieces out.”

Harry’s turn was next. He drew a “Sorry” card and laid it down gleefully. But when he examined the board, his mood changed to dismay. If he followed the rules and basic strategy of the game, he would have to move Ron’s yellow piece back to “start.” He looked around the board for an alternative. Hermione had a piece several squares behind Ron’s; he could send her back to “start” instead, since she was closest to winning.

“Well?” Ron growled, looking impatiently at Harry. “Are you going to move today?”

Harry shrugged and replaced Ron’s piece with his own, sending Ron back to “start.”

“Why did you do that?” Ron yelled. “It would have made more sense to knock Hermione off – she’s closer to winning.”

“Calm down, love.” Hermione put her hand on Ron’s arm.

Harry shrugged again and grinned at Ron. “I thought about it, but I was probably influenced by your impatience, mate.” He was hoping his levity would diffuse Ron’s anger. He was wrong.

“You always have to be the hero, don’t you?” Ron shouted, pulling away from Hermione’s hand. “It’s my job to protect her, not yours. I’M her husband, NOT YOU!”

Hermione grabbed Ron’s shoulder and said, “Ron,” in a warning voice. He shook her off again and stood up. Hermione shrugged, grabbed her wand, and quietly cast a Silencing Charm around the room.

“I know that, mate,” Harry said quietly.

“No, I don’t think you do!” Ron shouted. He clenched his fists at his sides, as if trying to hold himself back, and his voice became low and dangerous. “And where do you get off calling me ‘mate’?”

Harry felt his anger rising; this was getting ridiculous. He stood as he said, “Maybe because we’ve been friends for eight years, Ron. Or have you forgotten that?”

“No!” Ron spat. “I certainly haven’t forgotten how after eight years of friendship, you stabbed me in the back!”

Harry glanced over at Hermione and Lisa, who were staring at them with wide eyes. He looked back at Ron. “Look, Ron, this is not a good time to discuss this.”

“You’ve been hounding me about it for days. I’M ready to talk about it NOW!”

Harry took a step toward Ron and said, “Okay, Ron, let’s go to my room and discuss this privately!”

Ron shook his head. "No, Harry, now that I think about it, I don't want to discuss this at all." Before he even finished his words, he drove his fist straight at Harry's face. It hit with an audible crunch. Harry clapped his hands to his bleeding nose in shock and staggered back against the wall, blinded with pain. He saw the wild look in Ron’s eyes and was a little frightened at the depth of Ron’s anger.

When Ron swung again, Harry ducked feebly, and Ron’s fist ended up in the wall, giving Harry a few seconds to recover. He punched Ron in the midsection, but he suspected his hand was more hurt than Ron’s taut stomach. While he was still shaking the pain from his hand, Ron hit him in the face again.

Hermione and Lisa stood up as the wizards continued to pummel each other wildly. Lisa raised her wand, but Hermione grabbed her arm. “Leave them alone.”

“Were they like this in school?” Lisa asked, looking bewildered. “I’ve never seen anyone get into it like this over a stupid board game.”

“This isn’t about the game,” Hermione said with a grimace.

Lisa threw up her arms in exasperation. “We’re just going to stand here and let them beat each other to a pulp?”

“Unless it gets out of hand – yes.”

“How can you just stand there and watch them hurt each other?” Lisa asked.

Hermione sighed and gave a sad smile. “I’ve spent most of my life hanging around boys. Sometimes they just need to get it out of their systems.” Her smile became a little mischievous. “Besides,” she added, “it certainly won’t hurt Harry to have some sense knocked into him.”

“How do you know Ron will win?”

“Logic,” Hermione said. “Harry’s got quick reflexes, but Ron’s got five older brothers and Auror training. Harry doesn’t stand a chance.”

As if on cue, Ron knocked Harry to the floor and straddled him, hitting his face mercilessly. Harry raised his arms feebly, trying to ward off the blows. Hermione finally stepped forward to intervene, but Ron slowed before she could reach them. So she sat on the bed and waited, and finally Ron stopped, panting heavily. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and covered his face with his hands. “Oh, Merlin,” he mumbled through his hands. He uncovered his face and asked, “Harry, are you okay?”

Harry didn’t move. Ron scrambled off him and knelt by his side, grabbing his shoulders. “Harry,” he said again, shaking him gently. “Harry!” he shouted.

Finally Harry groaned and turned his head a little. He opened his eyes and whispered, “Ron? Are you finished?” Ron looked down in shame.

At this point, Hermione decided to intervene. “Lisa,” she said, “could you take care of Harry? You probably have a lot more experience than I do. Ron, come here – let me take a look at that eye.”

She healed Ron’s rapidly swelling eye while Lisa worked on Harry’s injuries, which were much more extensive. When she was finished, Lisa helped Harry to the bed and discreetly left the room.

Hermione sat next to Harry on the bed and took both his hands in hers, looking him in the eye. “Harry,” she began, “I love you very much as a brother and a best friend. But I am very much in love with Ron. I have never had any romantic feelings for you, and I never will. Is that clear?”

He looked down, embarrassed, and mumbled, “Yes.”

“Harry, look at me. I want to make sure you understand this.” She waited for him to comply and then said, “What you said to Ron the other night caused him to question my feelings for him. It’s going to take me awhile to forgive you for that. If you ever say anything like that to either of us again, we will not be able to be friends any more. Is that clear?”

He looked into her eyes for a moment and then forced out, “Yes.” He dropped his face, so she wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. “I-I’m sorry, Hermione. I guess … I’m just having trouble … adjusting …”

Hermione smiled. “It will be okay, Harry.” She leaned forward and gently kissed his cheek. “Now make up, you two,” she said, jerking her head to indicate Ron. She let go of Harry’s hands and sat back to watch while the wizards stood up to face one another.

Harry looked at his shoes and mumbled, “I’m sorry, Ron.” He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and realized Ron was holding out his hand. Harry looked up at him in wonder and clasped his hand eagerly. “Are we okay, then?”

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Ron said, grinning.

Harry couldn’t help smiling back; the relief was overwhelming. “You’ve got a mean right hook,” he said admiringly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Boys!”

*********************************************

After a delicious and lighthearted dinner, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lisa bade each other good night and went to their respective rooms. Harry was tired, his body still a little sore from the beating he took, but his mind was too alert to go to sleep. After flipping through television channels for awhile, he opened his laptop and logged on to the internet.

He was surprised to see that Ginny was online, and as he was typing a message to her, he heard the message alert. “Harry?”

“Hey, Ginny!” Harry typed. He hesitated and then decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. “Greetings from America!”

He waited for her message to come back, noticing it took a little longer to travel overseas. As he expected, she said, “What are you doing in America?”

“Ron, Hermione, and I are…” He stopped typing for a moment, debating how much to tell her. He finally erased the message and started over. “Ron and I are on business for the Ministry. Sorry, I really shouldn’t tell you more than that.”

“That’s okay.”

Harry thought about the time difference, counting the hours on his fingers. He typed, “Hey, what are you doing up at this hour?”

The answer came back quickly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Another nightmare?”

“Yes.”

It didn’t seem that Ginny was anxious to give any details, but Harry decided to try a gentle probe. “About the war?”

When the answer came back, it wasn’t what he expected. “Is Ron there?”

Harry gave the screen a puzzled look and typed, “No, we have separate rooms. Why?”

“I don’t want him to know I’m having nightmares. My brothers insist on babying me, and he’d probably tell Mum, which would be horrible.”

Harry felt a rush of warmth in his stomach as he realized Ginny trusted him with a secret. He typed quickly to reassure her. “I won’t say anything, I promise.” He hit the “send” button and held his breath, waiting for her answer.

“My nightmares are usually about Tom Riddle and the things he made me do.”

Harry let his breath out slowly as he contemplated that. He was amazed he had never considered that Ginny might still be suffering from that experience. He again felt the need to reassure her, and he typed, “I don’t blame you. That was horrible. I still have nightmares about that sometimes, too.”

“Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

The anonymity of communicating in this fashion made Harry bolder, but he still felt his face redden as he typed, “Because the dreams are usually about you. I dream that I didn’t get to you in time.”

“But you did get to me in time, and I’m very grateful.”

He decided to change the subject. “What did he make you do? I know about the basilisk and the messages on the wall.”

“He made me kill all the roosters. That was probably the worst thing.”

Harry felt a little sickened that an eleven-year-old would be made to do that. Then he remembered Tom Riddle’s words in the Chamber and typed, “Maybe. But you trusted him at first, and it must have been awful when you realized he had betrayed you.”

“Yeah. I think you’re right – the betrayal was the worst thing.”

While Harry was trying to decide what to say next, Ginny sent another message. “Remember the other night when we were talking? After I watched the movie at Neville’s?”

“Yeah,” Harry typed, wondering where this was leading.

“I had a nightmare about Tom Riddle that night. I was talking in my sleep, and Neville thought someone had raped me.”

Harry felt that sick feeling in his stomach again as he realized Neville was right, in a manner of speaking. He typed slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Well, you were raped, in a way. Even if it wasn't sexual, the way he used your body for his own purposes was still a violation.”

“That’s true! I never thought about it that way before!”

“Now that I think about it, your spirit and mind were violated, too. No wonder you still have nightmares.” Harry waited for Ginny’s answer. After a few minutes, he began to worry that he had offended her. He typed, “I’m sorry. I’m saying too much.”

The answer came back quickly. “No, Harry, you don’t know how much this means to me. I’ve never been able to talk to anyone about this before.”

Warmth flooded his body again, the wonderful feeling of Ginny’s trust. He typed, “I understand that. There are a lot of things I have trouble sharing, too.”

He felt his heart beating faster when he read Ginny’s reply. “Maybe when you get back we can get together and talk?”

He quickly typed, “That would be great!” and sent it. Then he sighed as he remembered something and typed, “Would Neville be okay with that?”

“We broke up.”

Harry suddenly felt like he could fly without a broom. He tried to decide how to respond; he knew it would not be appropriate to say, “That’s wonderful!” since he didn’t know how she felt about the breakup. He finally settled on asking, “Why?”

The answer didn’t come right away, and Harry began to get nervous. He wondered if she was devastated about losing Neville, and he had upset her. Then he wondered if she was angry because he was being too meddlesome.

When Ginny’s message finally came, Harry realized she was just taking the time to explain it to him honestly, and he felt warm again. She said, “I guess it started because I couldn’t talk to him about the dreams. He says there’s a dark wall in me that he can’t get past. He says I don’t trust him. I guess he’s right.”

Harry couldn’t help wondering why she felt she could trust him and not her boyfriend. Not that he minded, but he decided to ask. “But you can talk to me? You trust me?”

“Yes. I’m not sure why. Maybe because you understand what it’s like to be used by Voldemort. Maybe because I wasn’t in love with Neville.”

Harry nodded at the computer. It made sense that Ginny might feel a bond with him because of the horrors they had experienced at the hands of Voldemort. Neville had suffered some trauma but none directly from the Dark Lord. He was also glad that Ginny wasn’t in love with Neville; hopefully that meant she wasn’t devastated by the breakup. He couldn’t bear the idea of her suffering further.

While he was contemplating this, he received another message from Ginny. “Hey, I’ve got to get some sleep. Thanks for listening, Harry. Goodnight.”

He quickly typed, “Goodnight,” but she signed off before he could send it. So he turned off the computer and went to bed.

He lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation in his mind. He relished the warm feeling he got when he realized Ginny trusted him and anticipated with pleasure the conversations they would have in person when he returned to England. Maybe they could help each other overcome the nightmares. The thought was certainly appealing.

When he remembered the last few lines of the conversation right before she signed off, he suddenly sat up in bed. She had said maybe she couldn’t talk to Neville because she didn’t love him. Did she mean to imply that maybe she could talk to Harry because she did …? Then he started wondering why she signed off suddenly. Did she feel she had said too much, or did she realize she had implied something she didn’t really mean?

He got up and started pacing in the dark. Was it possible that Ginny was …? No, not after what he did at the wedding. But she said …

His thoughts and questions whirled round and round in his head, making him a little dizzy. Finally, one conviction became stronger than the others, and he flopped down on the bed from the force of it, burying his face in his hands. Ginny couldn’t love him; no one could. No one could love him if they knew how the evil of Voldemort had poisoned him. True, Ginny had been sullied by Voldemort as well, but she had been a victim. He had purposely chosen the path into darkness.

He lay on his back for hours without moving, before finally falling into a restless, dream-filled sleep.

*****************************

Ron and Hermione were rudely awakened the next morning by a pounding on the door. Hermione groaned and rolled over. Ron shouted, “Go away!” without opening his eyes.

The pounding continued, and Hermione said, “Ron, make it go away!”

Ron cursed and struggled out of bed, pulling on his robe as he made his way to the door. He jerked it open and yelled, “What?”

Harry pushed his way into the room and shut the door. “It will be tonight,” he said. “He’s going to rob a convenience store tonight.”

********************************************

Author’s note: I wrote the Ginny/Neville breakup scene, and then decided not to include it in the chapter. If you want to see what I had in mind, it’s posted at my Yahoo Group:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPFicsbyCindaleGDS/


	9. Control

Remus looked across the table into the eyes of the woman he loved. Love. The word had a whole new meaning for him now. He had loved his parents with the deep, familiar love of family. He had loved Sirius, James, Lily, and even Peter with the loyal love of friendship. He still loved Harry with the fierce, protective love of fatherhood. But he had never experienced this all-consuming love that threatened his control.

His control was the most precious thing he owned. It had been his constant companion since his youth. Remus had kept control of his emotions since he was a child. He never lost his temper, never cried, never expressed joy, never succumbed to lust. His control was the thing that allowed him to overcome the raging beast inside him. Without his control, he would no longer be a man.

After several years of docile transformations, the last two had been violent. He had injured himself, which hadn’t happened since he’d started the Wolfsbane Potion. He suspected he had injured Harry as well, even though the boy hadn’t said anything.

“What is it?” Susan asked, interrupting his melancholy thoughts.

Remus reached across the table, took her hand, and forced a smile. “Nothing, love. Is your fish good?”

“It’s lovely, thank you.” She picked up her fork with her other hand and resumed eating.

Susan was more than part of his life. She was rapidly becoming his reason for living, as vital to his existence as oxygen. Unfortunately, his love for her was a poison that was threatening to overwhelm the power of the Wolfsbane Potion.

“You’re not eating. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her thumb idly caressed his knuckles, and the electricity from the light touch flashed up his arm like lightning.

He gently untangled his hand. “Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about. But it can wait until we get ho- … back to your flat. Let’s enjoy our dinner.”

“I seem to be the only one enjoying it,” she said with a concerned expression. She wiped her mouth and said, “I’ve had enough. Come on – let’s get out of here. I want to know what’s bothering you.”

It was unseasonably warm for October, so they had walked the few blocks to the pub. They strolled toward Susan’s flat in silence, hand in hand. Remus tried to let the beauty of the night wash over him and forget about the talk he needed to have with Susan, but to no avail. His worries continued to crash over him relentlessly. If he hadn’t been so distracted, he probably would have heard the man approaching.

“Turn into this alley, now!” commanded a quiet voice behind Susan. Remus glanced back and saw a man in a mask with a gun pointed at Susan’s back. His heart leapt into his throat, and molten panic began filling his stomach.

“Don’t turn around again!” snarled the man. “And make sure I can see your hands!” Remus considered reaching for the wand in his pocket, but he decided he couldn’t get to it before the man could hurt Susan, and besides, Remus was sure he was a Muggle.

As they turned into the alley, he chanced a glance at Susan. Her face was a mask of utter terror. The panic in his stomach was quickly replaced with anger.

“What do you want?” Remus asked the man in a tight voice.

“Shut up! Hand over your wallet and the lady’s purse, old man.”

Remus, thinking quickly, decided to tell the truth. “I don’t carry a wallet. I have some money in my pocket – you can have that.”

“I said shut up!” In one swift movement, the assailant turned Susan around and pressed her back to the wall, one hand over her mouth while the other held the revolver to her head. Her eyes were bugged out, and she was making small screaming noises that were blocked by his hand. “Any more lip from you, and she’s dead.” He paused, looked her up and down, and his expression changed to a leer. “She’s much too young and pretty for you, old man. Maybe I’ll get more than a few quid out of this tonight, eh?”

Something snapped inside Remus. Later, he could not remember precisely what happened, only that all he could see was Susan’s terrified face. Suddenly he was standing over the man, holding his wand. The mugger was unconscious and bleeding in several places. He shook his head and started toward Susan. But before he could reach her, he was surrounded by six robed figures brandishing wands, and he knew no more.

****************************

Susan screamed as Remus pulled out his wand and started yelling at the man. Streams of light flew from the end of the wand, first knocking the gun from the assailant’s hand, then throwing his body to the ground. The anger on Remus’s face was almost as frightening as the mugger’s assault.

The man finally lay still, and Remus seemed to come to his senses. But as he turned toward her, he was suddenly surrounded by six robed figures, all pointing their wands at him and shouting. She screamed his name as he fell to the ground.

“Wait a minute,” said one of the figures, removing her hood. “I know this bloke.” She walked over to him, peered into his face, and said, “Yeah. Remus Lupin. Teacher at Hogwarts. He’s okay.”

“We still have to take him in,” said another voice.

“I know,” agreed the witch with a sigh. “Let me talk to the lady.” She walked over to Susan and said, “Looks like you had a bit of a fright. Let’s sit down, and you can tell me what happened.” The witch conjured a small divan, and Susan allowed herself to be seated. “You’re okay now. What’s your name?”

“S-Susan Chandler.”

“You can call me Tonks. Now, what happened?”

Susan shook her head. “Remus? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine – he’s just stunned. Don’t worry.” Tonks patted Susan’s hand. “Why don’t you start by telling me how you know Remus?”

“W-we’ve been dating. We met at my niece’s wedding.”

“And your niece is …”

“Hermione Weasley.”

“That’s what I thought,” Tonks said with a smile. “I was there, but I don’t think we met. You wouldn’t remember me anyway – I looked quite different that day. So, anyway, I take it you know Remus is a wizard.”

“Y-yes. But why are you all here? I don’t understand.”

“Remus used magic on a Muggle, which is illegal. We’re Aurors – sort of like Muggle police. You’ve probably heard that word – your niece’s husband is training to be one.”

“Is Remus in trouble?”

Tonks glanced at the other Aurors. Three were examining the mugger, and two were guarding Remus. She leaned toward Susan. “Between you and me, I’m sure it will be fine. Remus is a respected member of the wizarding community, and I’m sure what he did was in self-defense. Or in your defense.” She laid a hand on Susan’s arm. “Susan, I know it’s hard, but I really need you to tell me what happened tonight.”

Susan took a deep breath and started talking.

****************************

Remus’s head jerked up at the sound of the door opening. He glanced around the small room, wondering where he was. He must have dozed off. He tried to stand but was stopped by the restraints at his wrists and ankles. The memories suddenly flooded over him, and he groaned.

“Sorry about all this, Remus,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt as he entered the room. “Dumbledore’s downstairs right now, cutting through the red tape. You’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Is there any way you can let me out of these cuffs? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sorry,” the Auror said again. “Standard procedure for holding a werewolf.”

“And stunning a man, just for defending himself? I guess that’s standard procedure for a werewolf, too?” Remus asked in a clipped voice. He was angry with the Ministry for overreacting to the situation, but also angry with himself for losing control.

Shacklebolt looked at the floor. “You know werewolves are monitored more closely than even underage wizards, Remus. I don’t make the rules, and I don’t necessarily agree with them. But you know you need to watch that temper of yours.”

“He was going to hurt her!” Remus managed to shout through clenched teeth. “He was scaring … oh my … Susan! Is Susan okay?”

“The woman they brought in with you? Yes, she’s fine; Tonks is with her,” reassured the Auror. “I understand she wants to see you.”

“Can I see her?”

“I think so – I’ll find out.” Shacklebolt turned to leave.

“Wait!” The Auror turned back. “Please take these off. Don’t make me see her like this.”

“I can’t – regulations,” Shacklebolt said, raising an eyebrow and lowering his voice. “But there’s nothing I can do to stop her from taking them off.”

Remus slumped in the chair. “But she’s a Muggle.”

Shacklebolt gave a sly smile and conjured a small key. “That won’t be a problem.” Remus heard the lock click back into place as he left.

He sighed heavily and let his head droop forward. Shacklebolt had told him to watch his temper. But he didn’t have a temper. At least he hadn’t until tonight.

Remus had almost started dozing when the door opened again, this time admitting Susan. “Are you okay?” he asked, searching her face.

“I’m fine,” she answered, “but what have they done to you?” She bent over and unlocked the shackles on his wrists first. He didn’t give her a chance to get to his ankles; he grabbed her into a desperate hug while still sitting in the chair.

“If he had hurt you,” he murmured into her hair, “I couldn’t stand it …”

Susan pulled back enough to look at his face. “He didn’t hurt me, Remus. It’s okay; I’m fine.” She kissed him gently, pulled out of his embrace, and bent over to unlock the ankle shackles. When he was free, she stood, pulling him to his feet and into her arms. He went willingly, bending his head to kiss her.

He pulled back suddenly and ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t do this anymore. We can’t do this anymore.”

Susan took a step back. “What’s wrong?”

Remus clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace the tiny room, looking at the floor. “I want to be with you more than anything in the world. I’ve never wanted something so much in my life. But I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

Remus stopped and turned to look at Susan. Her eyes were wide, confused, pained. His heart wrenched, and nausea flooded his stomach. He looked away. “I’m losing control of my emotions. That can’t happen.”

“Everyone loses control of their emotions sometimes, Remus. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s part of what makes us human.”

“You’re forgetting I’m not fully human,” Remus countered. “A werewolf cannot lose control of his emotions. I could be … dangerous. Look what happened tonight. I hurt someone.”

“In self defense!” Susan’s voice was getting louder. “In my defense! You probably saved my life! You’re a hero, Remus. Why is that a bad thing?”

Remus sank down into the chair and put his face in his hands, fighting to keep his composure. “I lost control of my anger. I would have handled it much differently if I had been thinking.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Why can’t you see that?”

He looked up at her and sighed. “It’s not just tonight. The two transformations I’ve had since we started … our … relationship have been violent. I’ve … injured myself both times, and that hasn’t happened in years.” He paused; he couldn’t tell her about injuring Harry, it was too painful.

“What do you mean by injuring yourself?”

Remus opened his mouth to answer but saw the skeptical look on her face and realized she needed to see for herself. He held her eyes as he stood up, pulled off his jumper and shirt, and laid them over the chair. She gasped and put her hands over her mouth as her eyes traveled down his naked chest.

His chest and arms were covered with long, wide, irregular scars crossing diagonally across his torso and striping his shoulders. Most were old scars, shiny and white, but a few recent injuries were pink.

Susan was rapidly paling, and her hands crept up to cover her eyes. Remus couldn’t help feeling grateful for this; he couldn’t bear her horrified expression. He guided her to the chair and put his clothes back on. Then he knelt down in front of her, and she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder.

“You … you did that … to yourself?” she murmured into his jumper.

He pulled back to look her in the eye and nodded. “I’m sorry, love, but you needed to know the violence that I’m capable of.” His breath hitched as the tears started flowing down her face; he took deep breaths as he struggled for control.

“I-I d-don’t understand. Y-you’re the gentlest person I know.”

Remus stood and moved away from her, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “In my wolf form, I desire to bite and scratch humans, like any other werewolf,” he explained in a dead voice. “I am always isolated during my transformations. A human is not available, so I get frustrated and attack myself.”

“B-but the potion you take…”

“Isn’t working. It hasn’t worked since you and I started seeing each other.”

Her face fell. “So it’s my fault.”

He knelt in front of her and took her hands. “No, Susan. It’s nothing you’ve done.” He bowed his head. “It’s mine. I should have known better than to let it go this far.”

She pulled her hands away. “Why did you? Why did you even begin this relationship if you knew it wouldn’t work?”

Her anger made him feel much worse than her horror at his scars. He sank to the floor and shook his head. “I didn’t know. I’ve never been in a relationship like this before. But I should have known. I should have never asked you to dance.” He smiled grimly, remembering the wedding. “I couldn’t resist. You looked so beautiful, and the way you looked at me… It was just meant to be an innocent dance. I knew you wouldn’t want anything more with me when you found out what I was. When you accepted me, I … I was intoxicated with happiness. I didn’t even think … I just … felt.

“I realized as a child that strong emotions cause my transformations to be more violent, so I learned to suppress them. But since I met you, it seems that all I do is feel. The love and desire I feel when I’m with you and the sadness I feel when we’re apart are threatening to overwhelm me. And the anger I felt when you were attacked tonight did overwhelm me. You saw the result of that.”

Susan reached down and cupped his chin with her hand, raising his head to look her in the eye. She stared into his eyes for a long moment and then sank down into the floor in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “Remus Lupin, I am not afraid of you. You would never hurt me. I know it.”

Tears sprang to Remus’s eyes; the misery was starting to engulf him. He was going to hurt her, right now. But better this than inflicting her with his curse or having to leave her to go to Azkaban for hurting someone else.

He gently pulled his hands away and rose to his feet. “Susan, know that I love you more than I’ve ever loved another human being. I’ll never stop loving you.” He turned away from the pain in her eyes and knocked on the door.

Tonks slipped into the room, and her eyes grew wide and concerned when she saw the expressions on their faces. “Don’t worry – you’ll be out of here in no time. I think Dumbledore’s persuaded them to drop all charges.”

“Thanks, Tonks,” Remus said with a curt nod. “Can you see that Susan gets home, please?”

“Remus, don’t send me away!” Susan pleaded.

Remus couldn’t look at her; he knew he would lose his resolve. “Goodbye, Susan.”

Tonks helped the crying woman to her feet and led her out the door, throwing a puzzled look at Remus over her shoulder. Remus sat in the chair and put his head in his hands as the grief washed over him.

********************************

Draco woke up feeling odd. That was the only word he could think of to describe it. Physically, he felt perfectly normal, but something was lurking at the edge of his consciousness that felt, well, odd. He shrugged it off, assuming he’d had a strange dream right before he awakened that he couldn’t remember.

However, he continued to feel strange throughout the day, and by the time he pulled the black cloak from his closet, he had identified the sensation in the pit of his stomach.

It was fear.

Even though he had defined it, he didn’t understand it. He had robbed Muggles before, and even though he hated the degradation of it, he had never been afraid. He started to throw the cloak over his shoulders but then stopped and folded it neatly instead. He shrunk the bundle with his wand and put it in the pocket of his slacks. Maybe it would be wise to observe the target for a while before striking this time.

He Apparated to a point two blocks from the petrol station. He crept through the dark until he reached a hedge that ran along the east side of the building. From this point he could watch the store covertly.

After thirty minutes, Draco started feeling stupid. He wondered what he was worried about; he should just go ahead and execute the robbery. But then something caught his eye from above, and he looked up to see an owl flying over the building. As he watched, the owl flew neatly into the open window of an automobile.

He stared at the car for a few minutes, realizing there must be a wizard inside, wishing he could see the interior. He was so tired of living among Muggles; it would be nice to see a normal person again.

Shrugging to himself, he started to turn back to the building, when the owl flew out of the car and back over the building, disappearing behind it. Curious, Draco tiptoed along the hedge until he reached the other end. He parted it gently with his hands; he could now see behind the petrol station, and the scene caused him to audibly gasp.

The owl was talking to a stag and a toad. Well, it wasn’t talking to them, but it was obvious they were communicating somehow.

Draco stepped back and shook his head. He must be seeing things. Wild animals weren’t supposed to be so friendly with each other, and even if they were, what would a stag be doing in a city? He stepped forward to look through the hedge again. To his relief, the animals weren’t communicating any longer. The owl had disappeared, and the toad was hopping away from the stag. The stag stood still, facing the west, as if it were watching the door.

His back began to hurt from leaning into the hedge, but the stag never moved. A suspicion began to grow in his mind, causing him to step back from the hedge and walk to the other end. He peered through the hedge and scoured the ground in front of the station with his eyes until he saw it. The toad was standing watch over the front door. He didn’t see the owl but considered his suspicion confirmed. Animagi.

Draco was stunned; there were wizards watching his target! He wondered how they knew; he hadn’t told anyone where he was going. But even more puzzling, he now realized he’d been having a premonition that he needed to abort his plans tonight. He had never experienced forewarnings or omens before.

The first light of dawn appeared behind him, and still he watched, ignoring his cold hands and feet. Finally, the animals gathered behind the store again. Draco watched in fascination as they changed into humans and then forgot to breathe for several seconds when he recognized them.

There was no reason to stay any longer. He Apparated back to his hotel room, undressed, and got into bed, staring at the ceiling as he contemplated the night’s events. Soon, he quit wondering how they knew he would be there, how he knew not to rob the store, and why those particular people were looking for him. Instead, he started wondering how he could use it all to his advantage. He smiled as a plan began to form in his mind.

***********************

When Harry awoke, the sun was shining bright through the gap in the opaque hotel curtains. Groaning, he rolled over and looked at the digital clock on the bedside table, which read, “11:53”. He flopped onto his back and covered his face with his hands as the events of the previous night flooded his memory. He had been wrong! How was that possible? He finally struggled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom.

After a shower and two cups of coffee, he felt physically better but no closer to figuring out what had gone wrong. He thought about asking Snape but didn’t know if their telepathic connection would work over such a great distance. Maybe he would try a little later; it would be dinnertime in Britain now, anyway.

Harry was restless and felt trapped in the hotel room. He couldn’t take the car and leave the others without transportation, but he didn’t feel like going for a walk, either. Socializing with his friends wasn’t an appealing option, so he flipped on the television. When the noise became an annoyance, he opened his laptop and began idly surfing the internet.

The chime for an instant message startled him; he hadn’t noticed that Ginny was online. He accepted and quickly scanned her message. “I’m glad you’re online. My dad heard something at work yesterday – it’s about Remus.” He continued to read in stunned disbelief as Ginny told him about Remus’s arrest and subsequent breakup with Susan.

Harry didn’t know what to say. After pondering for a moment, he typed, “I wish I was there. He needs someone to talk to.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought you would want to know.”

“It’s okay,” he typed quickly. “Really, thanks for telling me. I’ll think of a way to get a message to him.”

“So, how are you doing?”

He hesitated before answering, longing to express his frustration to Ginny but unable to reveal the details of their mission. He settled for typing, “Fine. How are you?”

“Okay, but bored. When are you coming home?”

That warm, pleasant feeling flooded his stomach again, but before he could answer, she sent another message, “I meant both of you, of course.”

Harry felt a little deflated, but it didn’t change his answer. “I really don’t know how long we’ll be here.” He hit “Send” and then took a few moments to work up the nerve to type, “I hope we’re finished soon – I’m really looking forward to talking to you in person.”

Thankfully, her reply came quickly. “Me too.”

She wanted to see him! He suddenly felt emboldened and a little reckless. Their previous conversation had been plaguing him, and he wanted to continue it. After debating how to introduce the topic, he typed, “Are you upset about Neville?” and hit “Send” before he could change his mind.

“A little. I feel I hurt him because I couldn’t give him what he wanted.”

Ginny’s honest response gave him the courage to press further. “You said you weren’t in love with him, and maybe that’s why you couldn’t talk to him about your dreams.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s difficult for me to trust someone I don’t love.”

“But you trust me,” Harry typed quickly before he lost his nerve.

“Yes, I do.”

His heartbeat accelerated. He took a deep breath and, with trembling fingers, typed, “Why?”

“I guess because I love you, Harry.”

Harry had no idea how much he had been longing for those words until he saw them on the screen. He felt giddy, and his hands continued to shake as he typed, “I love you, too,” realizing that it was true. But something stopped him from clicking the mouse to send the message. The memories of his evil deeds flooded his mind, and he angrily held down the backspace key to erase the message. Instead he typed, “You can’t. You don’t really know me.”

“I’ve known you since we were kids! I know you almost as well as my brothers!”

He could picture her, in her flat, in front of her computer, typing this message. He realized he had probably made her angry, and her beautiful face would be screwed up with rage, her brown eyes flashing. Or, worse, he might have hurt her feelings, and tears would be flowing from her lovely eyes. His stomach clenched at the images he was creating, but he knew he was doing the right thing. He could never have a relationship with someone who didn’t know the whole truth about him; it would be a lie. He couldn’t risk her finding out about his deeds later and rejecting him; that would be too painful to bear.

His fingers felt full of lead as he typed his message. “I’ve done some horrible things. Evil things. There’s no way you could love someone like me.”

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time. There’s nothing you could do that would change that.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.” A single tear hit the keyboard as he clicked the mouse to send the message.

“Do Ron and Hermione know?”

“Yes.”

“They still love you. Why couldn’t I?”

Harry shook his head at the computer screen and typed, “That’s different. They lived through most of it with me.”

“It’s not different. If they can accept you, that’s enough for me.”

“It is different. They’re my friends. You’re talking about a different sort of relationship.”

“It doesn’t matter. Tell me.” He stared at the screen as the words started swimming in tears. When the chime sounded again, he had to swipe his eyes with the back of his hand so he could see her message. “Please. Trust me.”

He jumped at the pounding on the door. “Harry, let me in,” said Ron. “We’ve got to talk about last night.”

Harry cursed softly and yelled, “Just a minute.”

“Ron’s here, I’ve got to go,” he quickly typed.

The door opened, and Ron walked over to him as the chime sounded once more. Harry glanced quickly at Ginny’s message, “Harry, this conversation is not over!” and closed the dialog box before Ron could see it.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

“I was talking to Ginny over the internet.”

“Talking?”

“Well, sort of. You have to type everything. Give me a minute – I need to explain to her that I need to get off.”

Ron watched over his shoulder as he opened a new box and typed, “Ron’s right here. I’ve got to go to a meeting now. I promise I’ll e-mail you later.” He clicked “Send”.

“Cool! Can I say hi?” said Ron.

“Ron says hi,” Harry typed.

The chime sounded, signaling Ginny’s response and making Ron jump in surprise. “Okay. Tell Ron I said hi, and I miss him.”

Ron read her response over Harry’s shoulder and narrowed his eyes. “Witchy Woman?”

Harry had recovered enough to laugh lightly. “Yeah. That’s her instant message handle – her internet name. Mine’s Magic Man.” He looked up at Ron’s bewildered face and laughed harder. “I made them up – they’re both names of old rock songs. Appropriate, huh?”

***********************************

“Is the food here?” Harry asked as he entered the hotel room. “I’m starving.”

“Yes, and it’s getting cold,” Ron answered, obviously annoyed.

Harry grabbed a piece of pizza and sat down at the table. “Sorry, we had a lot to discuss.”

“So,” said Hermione, “what did Professor Snape think?”

“Wait – are you talking about Severus Snape? He’s Harry’s tutor?” Lisa cut in.

“Yes,” answered Hermione.

“Wow! He was a double agent during the war, wasn’t he? He’s a hero!”

“Yes, and such a charming man,” Ron said.

Hermione snorted, and Harry laughed openly. “What?” Lisa asked.

“Never mind,” said Harry. He took a large bite of pizza and said, “He wasn’t much help.” Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry swallowed quickly. “Sorry. He says it’s possible that Malfoy could sense my probing because he’s a wizard and the other thieves were all Muggles. Possible, but unlikely.” Harry urgently took another bite.

“Did you tell him we think it’s Malfoy?” Hermione asked.

Harry swallowed before he answered this time. “Yeah – this is rich. He said he hopes we’re right – he always hated him and would love to see him rot in Azkaban.”

Ron made a grunt of outrage. “But he always favored him in class!”

“I guess it was all part of the act.” He cocked his head to one side. “You know, now that I think about it, I’m not sure if he meant for me to hear that thought.” He took a drink of soda. “He also said that Lucius is likely with him, probably sitting around making Draco do the dirty work. He couldn’t help wondering if we had stumbled into a nest of former Death Eaters. He was going to talk to Dumbledore about it.”

“A nest of snakes,” Lisa commented. “I wonder if we should call for backup.”

“I think that’s premature,” Ron said. “We don’t have enough information yet. Malfoy could be acting on his own.”

“So what was Snape’s explanation for what happened last night?” Hermione asked.

“He thinks the most likely explanation is that something just happened to prevent him from being there,” Harry said. “He doubts my prediction was incorrect, because I was likely reading Malfoy’s intentions instead of the actual future. When I had the dream, Malfoy intended to rob the store that night. Anything could have stopped him – stomachache, sudden change of plans, whatever. Snape thinks we should try again, that it’s likely to work eventually.”

“I hope he had a stomachache,” Ron mumbled.

“Snape’s theory makes sense,” Hermione said, nodding.

“So we just sit around here and wait for Harry to have another dream?” Ron grumbled.

“Well, that seems to be the most reasonable course of action right now,” Lisa answered.

Hermione stood. “I agree,” she said, “but I think we need to get out of here for awhile. We need some distraction. Any ideas, Lisa? Something outdoors – the weather’s nice.”

“Wait,” Harry protested. “Can I finish my lunch first?”

******************************************

The four went to Bell’s Amusement Park. Harry rode every ride and had the time of his life. He almost made himself sick with the mixture of cotton candy and a certain spinning contraption. The wizards had a hard time persuading the witches to get on the rides, but in most cases they gave in. However, Harry later found tiny bruises on his arm from Lisa’s gripping fingers.

Harry had never been to an amusement park before and vowed to visit every single one in the United Kingdom. He felt so free when riding the roller coaster; it reminded him of flying. His problems stayed behind on the boarding platform while he was on a ride. He had so much fun he forgot to resent the Dursleys for refusing to take him anywhere pleasant as a child.

However, reality had to be faced when he went to his room that night; the thought of what he had to tell Ginny was eating away at him. He flipped open his laptop and signed on, breathing a sigh of relief that she wasn’t online. The empty screen seemed to mock him as he wondered how to begin.

“Dear Ginny,” sounded too generic. After erasing the screen, he typed, “Dearest Ginny,” and then realized that sounded too familiar; he loved her, but he was trying to discourage her. He finally settled on her name alone as a greeting.

Ginny,

Sorry I had to get off suddenly. Our mission here has hit a snag, and Ron and I needed to meet with our partners to decide what to do next.

That part was easy. He buried his face in his hands, agonizing over how to put his feelings and convictions into words. Finally, the words began to flow slowly from his fingers.

I need to tell you the horrible things I’ve done. I don’t want to, but you need to understand why you can’t love me. You knew me well as a boy, and I considered you a friend. But you don’t know the man I’ve become, and it’s important that you understand.

He started with his illegal Animagus transformation and his research into the Dark Arts, carefully leaving out Ron’s and Hermione’s involvement. Next came the Unforgivable Curses he had used, including his murder of Peter Pettigrew, and the details of how he had killed Voldemort. He continued with his stint in America as the Cloaked Vigilante and finished with his horrible words to Ron about Hermione. Nothing was omitted.

Even though he was completely honest about every detail and offered no justification or excuses, he couldn’t help betraying his guilt and his desire for redemption. As he typed, he felt as if poison was pouring out of his body through his fingers and his soul was slowly being cleansed.

He worked on the message for hours, agonizing over every word, sometimes standing up to pace the room, and sometimes just sitting with his head in his hands until the next word finally came.

As dawn’s first light started leaking through the crack in the curtains, he finally finished the e-mail with, “Love always, Harry.” He sent it, turned off the computer, and flopped onto the bed. His heart was filled with sadness at what he could never have with Ginny, but the overwhelming relief of confession sent him immediately to sleep.


	10. Control

Breaking up with Susan had only made things worse. Remus had never had so much trouble controlling his emotions, even when his parents had died. He walked through the halls of Hogwarts in a daze. His interactions with students and other teachers were polite but expressionless. He mechanically taught his classes and graded essays, and in the lonely dark of his rooms, he struggled for control as he failed to sleep.

The only thing that sustained him through that week was the knowledge that it was better for her. Above all, he had to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from himself.

Leia had arrived with a letter from Susan only hours after he had been released from the Ministry, but he hadn’t been able to gather the courage to read it. Evidently, Susan had instructed the owl not to return without a response. So Leia had spent the past several days in the Owlery, checking in with Remus every day after classes. He always sent her away with an owl treat and an admonition to go home, but she only went back to Owlery to wait another day.

One afternoon while sitting in his office staring unseeingly at a fifth year’s essay, Remus was startled by a clearing throat and looked up to see the sneering face of Severus Snape.

“Yes, Severus?” he asked with a sigh, sensing some unpleasantness to come.

“I have a message for you, from Potter,” Snape said. Remus immediately understood the sneer; Snape had the opportunity to flaunt his connection with Harry, something that Remus could never have, despite their close relationship.

“Yes, Severus?” Remus repeated, a little testily this time.

Snape sat down across from the desk, which annoyed Remus who was hoping he would deliver the message and leave. “He wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave my word that I would talk to you,” he said. His cheek twitched with irritation. “He said he knows you love her, that you’re doing the wrong thing, and that you need to give her a chance – or some such drivel. I can’t be expected to remember the exact wording.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Did you tell him about the … incident with the attacker?”

“No,” Snape answered. “I believe one of the Weasleys told him.” Remus nodded in dismissal and looked down at the parchment, but the other man didn’t move.

“You actually discontinued your relationship with the Muggle?” Snape continued. “I must admit I am surprised. I would have thought she would be the one to end it when she discovered your true nature.”

“She should have,” Remus said with a heavy sigh. He looked up at Snape. “Listen, Severus, I don’t want to talk about it, and it’s really none of your business.”

“Believe me,” Snape sneered. “I have no desire to get involved. I was merely delivering a message. I expected you to be more grateful.”

“Thank you, Severus, I appreciate the message. Now, please, I need to get these essays marked.” Snape crossed his arms in front of his chest and stretched out his legs, settling in his chair. Remus felt his anger rising; Snape was digging into an open wound. He gave Snape what he hoped was a pleading look. “Please, Severus, I can’t afford to get angry again.”

“This is about that Muggle thief, isn’t it?” Snape said distantly, as if he was thinking aloud. “This is all about self-control. Perfect Remus Lupin, who never loses control, finally snapped and can’t handle the consequences. Professor Lupin finally realized what he really is – a beast.”

“Severus, it’s time for you to go.” Remus stood up slowly, fists clenched at his sides.

“It just seems so cowardly to run away, Remus.” Snape raised an eyebrow and regarded him smugly. “Did you realize a wizard can never truly love a Muggle? Or that no one can ever truly love a werewolf?”

“GET OUT! NOW!”

Snape smirked. “But I like it here, Professor Lupin.”

Remus picked up his ink bottle and threw it in Snape’s direction, who ducked instinctively, even though he was in no danger of being hit. It shattered against the wall behind the Potions Master, leaving a wide starburst of black against the white. Snape looked at the destruction behind him and then turned to Remus with raised eyebrows. Remus sat down and put his face in his hands.

“Damn you, Severus! I told you I can’t get angry. It’s dangerous!” Snape didn’t answer, and Remus looked up to see a smirk on his face. He shook his head in disbelief. “You provoked me on purpose! Why?”

“I was merely proving a point. You lost control of your anger just now, and the world did not end.”

“I didn’t completely lose control,” Remus said, managing a small smile. “I’m a better shot than that.” His expression sobered. “But I’ll see the results at the next full moon. Thank you very much, Severus.”

“Ah, now I understand.” Snape leaned back in his chair and made a triangle with his hands. “You are afraid of losing control because it makes your transformations more severe.”

Remus studied Snape’s face for a moment, silently debating whether to confide in him. He finally shrugged, deciding he had nothing to lose, and described his last two transformations.

“And this coincides with the start of your relationship with the Muggle, I assume,” said Snape.

“Her name is Susan. And yes, it does.”

The Potions Master sneered and shook his head. “If you knew sexual activity would worsen your transformations, it was cruel of you to begin a relationship. You deserve this.”

“You misunderstand,” Remus said, looking at his desk as his cheeks began to flush. “We haven’t … er … had a … er … sexual relationship.”

Snape’s eyes widened, and he leaned forward in his chair. “So the first time you lost control of your emotions during the last two months was the incident with the Muggle assailant?”

“It was the first time I’d lost control of my emotions since I was a child,” Remus corrected.

He looked back at Snape, wondering what he meant by the question. Snape stared at him for a long time with an unreadable expression and finally said, “Have you ever considered the possibility that your violent transformations are being caused by your repressed emotions? Is it possible that losing control occasionally might actually help your monthly changes?”

“No. As a child, transformations were always much more violent when I had thrown a temper tantrum or cried. I learned at a young age to suppress all emotions.”

“But that was before the Wolfsbane Potion.” Snape stood and said, “Come with me.” He stalked out of the Defense teacher’s office without a backward glance, apparently confident that Remus would follow. Remus sighed and trailed after him.

By the time Remus reached the dungeons, Snape was already standing outside his office, holding a book toward him. Remus gave the Potions Master a puzzled look and cautiously took the offering.

“The chapter about Wolfsbane Potion begins on page seventy-three. Read it. It may give you some insight.”

Remus looked from the book to the Potions Master, his eyes widened in incredulity. “Are you actually trying to help me?”

“I am only thinking of this school,” Snape sneered, looking at the ground. “We can’t have a teacher with violent lycanthropy. Besides, your love-sick depression is starting to effect morale.”

“Thanks, Severus,” he said, extending his hand.

Snape backed up and held up his hands with a look of distaste. “No, please. Just remember. You owe me.”

Remus shrugged and walked away, turning the pages of the book as he went.

**************************************

Susan opened the door. Her eyes lit up with surprise and hope when she saw him, but Remus’s heart sank as they turned cold. “I guess you came for the stuff you left,” she said, in a voice the same temperature as her eyes. “Just a minute – I’ll get it.”

She started to turn away, but Remus put a gentle hand on her arm to stop her. She looked down at his hand then back up at his face, the hope flickering briefly in her eyes again. He swallowed and stammered, “C-can I come in?”

“Why?” Her lips were set in a thin line.

Remus sighed. She wasn’t making this easy, but he knew he deserved to have the door slammed in his face. “I need to talk to you.” She gave him a calculating look. “Please,” he begged.

She shrugged his hand off her arm but moved aside to let him in her flat. “Please, have a seat,” she said with brusque formality.

“No, I don’t think I can,” he said. He began to pace in front of the sofa. She shrugged, seated herself, and watched him walk back and forth in front of her. He chanced a look at her face; her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

She sighed softly when he looked at her. “Remus, what is it?”

He continued to pace. “One of my fellow teachers came to my office today and pressed me until I told him about our … my … control issues … and how that affected my relationship with you.”

“Sounds like a nosy bloke.”

“He is. But he can also be a good friend when he’s so inclined.” Remus couldn’t help smiling at the irony of speaking of Severus Snape in affectionate terms. “He makes my Wolfsbane Potion every month. I’ve never been good at potions, so I had never bothered to read the book until today.” He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “Susan, I’ve been suppressing my emotions since I was a child. But I found out today that continued refusal to express my feelings can actually counteract the effects of the Wolfsbane Potion.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Remus knelt in front of Susan and took her hands in his, heartened that she didn’t pull away. “I was planning to break things off with you even before we were attacked because I was losing control of my emotions for you, and I thought it was causing my transformations to worsen. In fact, the opposite was true; I was fighting my emotions as a man, which was causing me to lose control as a wolf. Severus and the book both suggested that losing control of strong emotions occasionally might actually help me control my wolf form.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“My actions against our attacker last weekend were an expression of my anger and fear. I briefly lost control of myself – of my emotions. That could actually help my next transformation. Not that I should make a habit of losing my temper, but there are other emotions I’ve been afraid of expressing. The strongest has been my love for you.”

Susan nodded slowly as she pondered those words. After a moment she said, “So that’s why you’ve never made love to me.” Remus felt his face redden, and he couldn’t help pulling back slightly. He looked at the floor as she continued, “To be honest, I was beginning to wonder. Most guys I’ve dated have tried on the third or fourth date. And you’ve slept over here so many times.”

Remus stood and began pacing again. “Not that I haven’t wanted to, but it’s not just about sex. I came so close to giving in to my grief a few weeks ago when I told you about my friends’ deaths. I never properly grieved for them, and maybe it’s time I did.” He stopped and turned to face her again. “Susan, I love you. I want to be with you forever. I know that sounds sappy, but it’s the truth. Is there any chance that you’ll forgive me? Is there any chance you could put up with all this?”

Tears began to fall from her eyes as she gave Remus a long look. Finally, she said, “How do I know it will work? How do I know you won’t change your mind? I don’t think I could take it if you left me again.”

“I have to be honest – there are no guarantees that it will work. This is new territory for me. But I’m willing to try if you are and to keep trying until it does work. Even if it takes the rest of our lives.” He sat beside her on the sofa and took her hands in his. “As for changing my mind, that’s impossible. Werewolves mate for life, and I’ve chosen you. I’ll always be mated to you in my heart, no matter what you decide to do.” He leaned in and kissed the tears from her face. “I’ll never leave you, Susan. I promise.”

Susan managed to smile at him through her tears. “Are you trying to say 'Till death do us part'?”

Remus felt the happiness and fear swirling inside him and fought the automatic urge to check the emotions. His breath caught as he felt tears run down his cheeks for the first time in thirty years. “I am,” he whispered as he leaned forward to kiss her lips, "and I do."

****************************************

Harry heard the pounding as soon as he shut off the shower. “Harry,” Ron shouted through the door.

“Come in, Ron,” he shouted. He reached around the shower curtain to push the bathroom door shut and waited for the outer door to open and close. “I'm just getting out of the shower.”

“Hurry up,” Ron said through the crack in the door.

“We’ve got time.” Harry began to towel himself off. “Oi, are you alone out there?”

“Yeah,” Ron answered. Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and left the bathroom to rummage in his bag for some clothes. He looked up and noticed Ron was examining his computer curiously. “Can I talk to Ginny again?” he asked.

“Only if she’s online,” Harry answered. “Here, let me log on to the internet, and even if she’s not online, you can send her an e-mail.” He clicked the appropriate buttons and went into the bathroom to get dressed.

As he was charming his hair dry, Ron yelled, “Oi, Harry, what do I do next?” Harry walked over to stand behind Ron, who was tapping fruitlessly at the keyboard.

“I think there’s an e-mail for you, mate,” Ron said. “A voice said something about mail a minute ago.” Harry felt the color drain from his face; only one person would e-mail him. Unable to help himself, he reached around Ron and clicked on the mail icon. “Witchy Woman, isn’t that from Ginny?” Ron asked and then caught the look on Harry’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Harry looked away. “I told her everything. This is her response.”

“What do you mean, you told her everything?”

“The Dark Arts, Voldemort, Pettigrew, the Cloaked Vigilante …” he said as he ticked them off on his fingers. “Every reason why she can’t love me.”

“So she told you she loves you,” Ron said, and Harry noticed it wasn’t a question.

“You knew?” he asked.

“Of course I knew – I’ve known for years!” Ron turned his body to face him; Harry noticed his face was reddening in anger. “Why did you tell her all that?”

Harry looked at his shoes. “She has to forget me – to move on. I can’t …”

“You can’t what? You can’t love her? Because of Hermione?” he demanded, his voice rising.

Harry thought it would be wise to slowly back away from Ron. When the bed was between them, he said, “I’m not in love with Hermione. I thought I was, but I was wrong.”

“So do you love Ginny?” Ron asked, his face contorted in confusion.

Harry thought about it for a moment and struggled to put his feelings into words. “What I feel for Hermione is friendship and admiration … and … a strong desire to protect her. I have the same feelings for Ginny, but there’s something more … there’s … physical attraction as well.”

Ron appeared to mull over Harry’s words for a moment. “So are you saying you want to shag my little sister, Potter?”

Harry noticed Ron was fingering the wand in his pocket and backed away even more. Blushing furiously, he looked at his shoes. “Well, maybe, eventually. For now I’d just like to spend time with her.”

“Well, I guess I can’t complain about you moving on, even if it is my baby sister.” Harry chanced a glance up and noticed Ron was grinning broadly. “I’m thrilled for you, mate, both of you.”

Harry lowered his head. “Don’t be,” he said. “I can’t be with her.”

“Let me get this straight. My sister loves you. You love her. And you’re trying to drive her away?” Harry looked up and noticed Ron had begun to finger his wand again.

“You know what I’m like. I’m evil! I’d only hurt her. I can’t be with anyone like her!”

“What exactly do you mean by ‘anyone like her’?” Ron’s ears were turning red.

“Ginny is … I don’t know … she’s good … and sweet … and understanding … everything I’m not!”

“Merlin!” Ron stood up and pulled his wand from his pocket. “I wish I could hex some sense into you!” He walked toward Harry, who backed farther away. Ron stopped and laid down his wand, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. Harry stopped and let him approach and lay a hand on his shoulder. “You’re right, mate, I know what you’re like. You’ve made a few mistakes, but overall you’re the most honorable man I know. You’re not evil. Someone evil would never feel so guilty.” Harry looked into Ron’s eyes and saw the admiration there and felt tears well up in his own eyes. He looked away before the tears could fall. Ron continued, “Look, we’ve all made mistakes. You feel that yours are bigger than most, but that’s irrelevant. The important thing is that you learn from your mistakes and move on.” Harry looked back at his friend, who was grinning broadly. “And I hope moving on for you involves my sister.”

Harry sighed. “Thanks, Ron, but I don’t think Ginny will want me and all my baggage.” He shrugged off Ron’s hand and walked past him to the bathroom, where he allowed himself to drown in his conflicting emotions for several minutes.

While he was charming his face to hide the signs of crying, Ron knocked on the bathroom door. “Harry?”

“Yeah – I’ll be out in a minute.”

The disembodied voice came through the door. “Hurry up – I think you need to read this before we go.” Harry jerked the door open and searched Ron’s unreadable expression. “Ginny’s e-mail – come on.” Ron grabbed Harry’s arm, led him to the computer, and pushed him into the chair. Harry forgot to be annoyed that Ron had read his private mail in his nervousness about what Ginny had said. He read:

Harry,

I read your e-mail, and I want you to know very clearly that I still love you and I still want to be with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I’m not in love with the “Boy Who Lived,” the imaginary hero. I fell in love with a man who blushes when he’s flattered, who pours his heart into the things that are important to him, and who’s fiercely loyal to his friends.

I would love to say it doesn’t matter what you’ve done, but it does. It matters because your actions have filled you with guilt and have made you think you’re a lesser person. I disagree with your assessment of yourself. An evil person does not have a conscience, and you clearly do.

Harry, you’ve made some mistakes. But if you can’t let go of the past and move on, if you can’t let go of the misconception that you are evil, then you’ve let Voldemort determine your future. Voldemort was such a big part of your life for so long, and it’s time he truly died.

I know I’m being a hypocrite. You’ve helped me see that I’m still letting Voldemort rule a big part of my life, as well. Maybe we can help each other, if you’re willing. I want to be part of your life, Harry. I’m not afraid of you, and I don’t think you’re evil. Please let me help you, like you’ve already helped me.

I love you, Harry,

Ginny

Harry read the e-mail twice and then looked up at Ron in wonder. Ron smiled and spoke softly, “Go for it, mate.”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair and looked down so Ron wouldn’t see his tears. His thoughts and feelings were swirling so fast in his mind he felt he needed to lie down. But one thought surfaced above the rest, and Harry clung to it, shoving the others aside for the time being. “We have to go, Ron,” he said. “It’s time for the robbery.”

******************************************

Harry drove the Ford Explorer south on the highway. He didn’t know exactly where they were going, but he would know when they arrived. The dream had been different from the others. In previous dreams, he had seen the perpetrator escaping from a building, but in this dream, it appeared the robber was running down a hallway.

When he pulled into the parking lot of the mall, Ron said, “Where are you going, Harry? I thought this bloke always hit petrol stations?”

“But this dream was different,” said Hermione. “A shopping mall could look like a long hallway in a dream, right, Harry?”

“Maybe,” Harry answered, “but it didn’t really look like a mall. The walls were close on both sides. But I’m certain this is where the Cloaked Vigilante will strike tonight. It just feels right.”

“No offense, Harry,” said Lisa, “but you were sure the other night in Muskogee, too.”

Harry didn’t respond, but his stomach clenched with nervousness. She was right, and he couldn’t help the urge to prove himself.

It was almost closing time when they walked into the nearly deserted mall. Harry’s eyes darted around as they went, finally coming to rest on the store next to the sign for the restrooms. He nudged the others and inclined his head in that direction.

Ron snorted derisively. “Malfoy’s going to rob a clothing store? That figures.”

They decided Lisa should go into the store to see if Malfoy had already entered, since she was the only one he wouldn’t recognize. She came back a few minutes later, shaking her head. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

Harry sighed. “Yes, and I think he’s already in there. He could be hiding in the changing room – he can’t exactly walk around the mall in his cloak. Or he could be using a Disillusionment Charm.”

Lisa looked at Harry for a long moment and finally said, “Okay. I think we should split up – watch the store from different angles. You guys weren’t exactly subtle the other night, Animagus forms or no. Ron, Harry, you guys go over there behind the fountain and keep out of sight. Hermione, you and I can pretend to be talking over here.”

The two men walked over to the fountain, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and threw the invisibility cloak over themselves. Harry looked at the women and noticed that Lisa was facing the store while Hermione had her back to it. He sighed in relief; they appeared to be engaging in casual conversation, and Malfoy wouldn’t recognize Lisa.

The four continued to watch the clothing store while other shops began pulling down their gates to close and the lights began to dim. A woman partly pulled down the gate of the store they were watching. A few minutes later, they heard a muffled scream, and a cloaked figure ducked under the gate to exit the store. He paused, looked around, and then ran down the hallway toward the bathrooms.

Harry glanced at the women, noticing they were following, and took off at a run behind them. Harry drew his wand and pulled off the invisibility cloak as he ran. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ron had also pulled out his wand. They had almost caught up with the women when Malfoy suddenly stopped and turned to face them. Hermione and Lisa stopped suddenly, and Harry and Ron almost plowed into them.

Ron recovered quickly and shouted, “Drop the wand, Malfoy!”

The blond man only grinned wickedly and Disapparated. At the same time, the floor disappeared beneath the four pursuers, and they fell heavily into a lower level of the building.

Harry winced as he struggled to his feet; his knees had taken the brunt of his fall. The others were attempting to stand as well; it appeared they had no major injuries. Harry looked around. They were in what appeared to be a giant cage. One side was a solid concrete wall, and the other three were bars.

“That was really stupid,” Lisa murmured. “I should have known better.”

With a flash of light, the ceiling reappeared. Harry raised his wand to break the bars, but a familiar voice yelled, “Expelliarmus!” and his wand, as well as those of the others, flew into the waiting hand of Draco Malfoy. Malfoy smirked as he approached the cage and pocketed the wands. “Four Aurors walking into a trap? How stupid can you get? Of course, your stupidity works to my advantage, so I’m not complaining.”

Harry and Ron grabbed the bars and shook them as Malfoy laughed quietly. Harry reached between the bars and grabbed at Malfoy, but he was just out of reach. They all started and turned fearfully as a door banged open and two others entered the room. Harry felt a wave of nausea as he recognized Malfoy’s father and Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Excellent work, Draco,” Lucius boomed. “Four? We have an extra guest, I see. Excellent, excellent. Girlfriend of yours, Mr. Potter?”

Harry didn’t answer but settled for giving Lucius a hateful glare. Lucius shrugged. “No matter. It will only make the party more enjoyable.” Lucius stepped closer to the cage, careful to stay out of reach of Harry’s arms. He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You’re going to have the most fun at our little party, Mr. Potter. Before we kill you, we’re going to let you watch us kill your friends.” Harry reached through the bars, trying to grab Lucius, but Draco waved his wand lazily, and Harry was blasted back against the wall, landing on his backside.

Ron began to reach through the bars, but Draco locked eyes with him, threatening with his wand. He backed up and put an arm around Hermione. “Let the girls go,” he said in a subdued voice.

“No, Ron,” said Hermione, choking down a sob.

Bellatrix Lestrange sauntered to the bars and beckoned to Harry. He only glared in response, so she walked around the cage until she reached the wall. She crouched next to him, almost close enough to touch, and whispered loudly to give the impression of confidentiality while ensuring the others could hear. “Do you know what the Cruciatus Curse will do to your little friends, Potter?” She paused to wait for an answer and continued when he didn’t speak. “No? Well, let me educate you. The curse causes compression of the veins, arteries, and capillaries in the body. Initially, they’ll only feel pain. As we continue, their capillaries will burst, resulting in bruising. The loss of blood flow to the brain will cause oxygen deprivation, which will ultimately result in irrevocable damage, including blindness and insanity. The loss of circulation will eventually cause their limbs to become permanently useless. Finally, after a very long wait, their hearts will stop. We can easily make the pain go on for hours, allowing brief moments of recovery only to plunge them into agony again.” Although Harry had undergone the torment of the Cruciatus Curse himself, the vivid description of what would happen to his friends made his stomach clench in fear.

Lestrange stood abruptly and walked over to the Malfoys. “Well, Lucius, I’ll bet Draco wants to do the Weasley. Which do you want?”

Lucius started to speak, but Draco interrupted. “Father, I think we should make Weasley watch us torture the women.”

“Why?” Lucius asked with a frown. “Don’t you have the stomach for this? I hope you’re not going to disappoint me again.”

Draco gave his father an angry look, pointed his wand at Ron, and yelled “Crucio!” Hermione screamed as Ron fell to the floor, twitching in agony.

Harry shouted curses at Draco as he struggled to his feet, and Lisa yelled, “Stop it!”

Finally, Draco lowered his wand, smirked at Hermione, and turned to his father. “My stomach is fine. I merely thought it would be amusing for Weasley to watch his wife suffer.”

Lucius nodded and laughed softly. “Excellent idea, Draco. All right then, Bella, you take Potter’s girlfriend, and I’ll take Weasley’s Mudblood whore.”

Draco pointed his wand at Harry and muttered, “Restringere.” Harry’s body slammed up against the wall again, but this time he stayed flattened against it, held by invisible bonds. “Allerta Oculus,” and Harry’s eyes were forced open; he couldn’t even blink. The blond performed the same spells on Ron, gave his trademark smirk, and said, “Enjoy the view!”

Lucius nodded his approval, and then he and Lestrange raised their wands toward the women in the cage. “Crucio!”


	11. Coercion

Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange raised their wands toward the women in the cage. “Crucio!”

Unable to move or close his eyes, Harry watched as Hermione and Lisa writhed in pain on the floor. The room echoed with agonized screams, and it took Harry several minutes to realize that some of it was coming from his own throat. His eyes burned from lack of moisture, and his muscles ached from straining against his invisible bonds, but these discomforts paled in comparison to the ache in his heart as he watched two people he cared about in such horrible agony. He fought the urge to retch as he remembered Lestrange’s description of the curse.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, he felt something forced into his hand. He was momentarily distracted by the smooth feeling of his wand and then shocked as he heard his enemy’s voice, unnaturally magnified in his ear. “When I release you, immobilize Bellatrix. I’ll take care of Lucius. Be ready.”

A few seconds later, Harry almost fell to the floor as he was released from the spells. He pointed his wand at Lestrange and yelled, “Petrificus Totalus!” He watched Lestrange and Lucius fall to the ground next to each other and then stumbled over to Hermione and Lisa, who were mercifully unconscious.

“Let them sleep,” drawled Draco. “The longer they’re out, the better they’ll feel when they wake up.”

Harry looked at Draco. “Release Ron,” he said in a dangerous voice.

“Sure, whatever,” he answered, casually waving his wand in Ron’s direction. Harry hurried to Ron and caught him as he stumbled forward.

“I’m okay, mate,” Ron said and made his way quickly to Hermione’s side.

Harry crossed to the bars closest to Draco. “Are you going to let us out of here?”

“As soon as I’m sure you’re not going to attack me.”

“What’s going on, Malfoy?”

Draco strolled up to the bars separating him from Harry. Harry raised his wand as Draco approached, but the blonde man only rolled his eyes, shook his head, and put on a falsely bright voice, saying, “Thank you so much, Mr. Malfoy, for saving my life and the lives of my friends.”

Harry narrowed his eyes but lowered his wand. “Why should I be thanking you?” he asked. “You allowed the girls to be tortured, and you tortured Ron yourself.”

“I had to choose my moment,” Draco said with a shrug. “It wouldn’t have done you any good if my father had killed me, now, would it?”

Harry stared at Draco for a long moment. Then he turned and walked over to Ron, who sat on the ground with Hermione’s head in his lap. “Is she okay?” He saw the tears in Ron’s eyes as he raised his head to look at Harry and nodded slowly. He swallowed a lump and turned to Lisa, kneeling down to examine her face. She appeared to be sleeping and breathing normally, and her cheeks had a healthy color. He walked back over to Draco. “The bars, Malfoy.”

“Right.” Draco muttered a spell, and the bars disappeared.

Harry walked over to Lestrange and picked up her wand. Her body was completely stiff and immobilized from his spell, with the exception of her eyes. He stood where she could see him and said, “I hope you enjoyed Azkaban, since you’re going back.” Then he broke her wand in two. He allowed himself to enjoy the look of hatred and defiance in her eyes for a moment before he turned to pick up Lucius’s wand. He froze before he completely straightened up and then knelt beside the unnaturally still man. “He’s dead! What have you done, Malfoy?”

“Simple Killing Curse, Potter. I know you know how to use it.”

“What?” Ron shouted. “Are you crazy? You killed him? You’ll get a life sentence in Azkaban.”

“I don’t think so,” Draco said quietly.

Harry stood and walked over to Draco. “I don’t get it. You killed your own father to save our lives? Why?”

Draco laughed bitterly. “Don’t get all sappy on me. Not everything is about you, Potter. I did it to help myself, not to save your pathetic lives. When my father dies, I inherit the Malfoy fortune. As long as he was alive, we had to stay in hiding, but now he’s dead, and I’ve saved the lives of the Boy-Who-Lived and his friends. All will be forgiven me.”

“We can’t let you get away with murder,” Harry argued.

“I think you can,” said Draco. “I’d hate for the Ministry to find out that you got away with murder, wouldn’t you?”

Harry shook his head. “Everyone knows I killed Voldemort – I don’t think I’m going to get into trouble for that.”

Draco casually crossed his arms in front of his chest; his expression looked like he had just been told Christmas was coming early. “I’m not talking about Voldemort – I’m talking about Pettigrew.” Harry felt the color drain from his face and his stomach roll with nausea. Draco laughed. “Thanks for confirming it, Potter – you’re an open book.” He took his father’s wand from Harry, broke it in two, and pocketed the halves. Then he turned and walked toward Lestrange. “I guess your self-righteous attitude explains why you didn’t kill Bellatrix. I certainly would have if I were in your position.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked in a weak voice.

Draco turned to Harry and shrugged. “She killed your godfather, didn’t she? I would want revenge.”

The nausea in Harry’s stomach was quickly replaced with anger. “She’ll go to Azkaban, where she belongs,” he said in a tight voice.

“What happened? Did you suddenly grow a conscience?” Draco said with a sneer. “You certainly didn’t have one when you killed Wormtail!” He paused, jerked the glove off his right hand, and held the mangled hand in front of Harry’s face. “You certainly didn’t have a conscience when you did this!”

Emotions stirred wildly in Harry’s stomach, making the nausea return. Amidst the spinning of his head, he was able to distinguish one vital emotion, and he clung to it with all his might. Guilt. He actually felt guilty for scarring Draco’s hand, despite all the hurt the boy had caused him in school, despite all the hurt he had caused his friends today. The voices of Dumbledore, Remus, Ron and Ginny floated through his head, all telling him that he couldn’t be evil if he felt remorse for his mistakes. Hope began to blossom in his heart, and as he stood there, looking at Draco’s hand, the hope slowly began to overwhelm the fear, anger, and sadness. He turned his head slightly to look Draco straight in the eye and spoke in a firm voice. “I made some mistakes during the war, but that’s not the person I am. I will not kill again.”

“Whatever,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes. He turned suddenly, pointed his wand at Lestrange, and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!” Harry watched in horror as the green light hit the woman squarely in the chest. He turned to look at Ron, whose eyes reflected the revulsion he felt.

Ron finally managed to speak. “Harry, we can’t let him get away with two murders. The Ministry will never believe Malfoy about Pettigrew – they officially still believe Sirius killed him twenty years ago. We’ve got to turn him in.”

“I don’t think so,” Draco said. His smirk returned as he played his final card. “Potter, have you been to any stag parties lately? Weasley, you can be such a toad sometimes! And Granger always figures everything out, doesn’t she, the wise old owl!”

Harry and Ron stared at Draco in shock as he named all three of their Animagus forms. After a moment, they looked at each other, silently asking the other what to do. Harry noticed the terror he felt reflected in Ron’s eyes.

Draco’s smile became broader as he watched their faces. “You three aren’t registered, are you? Isn’t that an automatic Azkaban term?” He moved closer to Harry and said, in a stage whisper, “You two might be okay in Azkaban for a while, but I know you don’t want to see Granger have to go there.”

Harry’s memories of past encounters with Dementors flooded his mind. He sighed and turned to Ron. “We’ve got to keep quiet about this, Ron,” he said in a defeated tone.

“But it won’t matter what we say, Harry,” Ron protested. “All they have to do is examine his wand.”

“Oh, thanks for reminding me,” said Draco. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and stroked it lovingly for a moment then put a hand on each end and pulled his knee up forcefully, breaking the wand in two. He pocketed the halves. “Okay, I think that takes care of all the evidence, since I no longer have eyewitnesses.”

“Er, Malfoy,” Ron said, “there’s the slight issue of the two dead bodies.”

Harry wasn’t listening; he suddenly had an idea. He was armed; Malfoy was not. He took a few steps back, raised his wand, shouted, “Obliviate!” and waited for the other man’s eyes to glaze over.

Instead, Draco laughed softly, eyes as bright as ever. “Give it up, Potter. The Memory Charm doesn’t work on me.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Draco said with a shrug. “You can fight off the Imperius Curse; I can fight off the Memory Charm. Special talents, I guess.”

Harry looked over at Ron, who shrugged.

“Now about those bodies …” Draco began.

“Neither of our wands is going to show a Killing Curse, Malfoy,” Ron interrupted. “Even without your wand, the Ministry will still assume you killed them. All they have to do is administer truth serum to find out.”

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “I think they killed each other. My father was against killing you all but was afraid of Bellatrix. He decided to help me save you, and she killed him for it. But he was too quick for her, and he managed to curse her before he died. In fact, now that I think about it, he saved my life. She would have killed me next.” Draco pulled a tragic face and managed a sniffle. “My father’s last act as he died was to save my life. He was a hero.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other in disbelief and rolled their eyes. “No one’s going to believe that, Malfoy,” said Harry.

Draco’s casual demeanor returned. “Sure they will – especially if you back me up. Everyone knows Bellatrix Lestrange was Voldemort’s most faithful disciple, while Lucius Malfoy was only a reluctant follower.” Harry and Ron both snorted derisively at this. “Besides, I’m a great actor.” He resumed his tragic face, took several deep breaths, and actually managed to send a tear trickling down his face.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Ron.

****************************************

The American Ministry of Magic accepted the story without question. They praised Lisa for a job well done and gave her two weeks leave with pay to recover from her injuries. Harry, Ron, and Hermione parted from Lisa with hugs and many promises to keep in touch.

The British Ministry of Magic was a little more reluctant to believe a Malfoy was a victim of circumstance. Ms. Edwards and Mr. McFly looked at all of them skeptically as they recounted their story, especially Draco’s part. However, with no evidence to the contrary, they reluctantly released Draco from custody.

Ron and Hermione considered themselves lucky. Ron received only a formal reprimand for taking his wife on the mission, and Hermione escaped with only a fine, provided she immediately register her Animagus form. Harry used his paycheck from the Ministry to pay the fine. Harry and Ron didn’t mention their Animagus forms; they decided to quietly register after a few weeks had passed.

The three of them rode the elevator to the lobby with Draco. They silently avoided looking in his direction, but as the door opened, Draco brushed by Harry to exit, and their eyes locked briefly.

For the first time in years, Harry didn’t see hatred in the blond’s eyes. He wasn’t sure of the expression, but it could have been gratitude. He watched as Draco joined Narcissa at the other end of the room, as mother and son embraced warmly, and as Draco pulled back slightly and pressed his cheek against hers. He continued to stare after them as they left. He wondered if a man who so obviously loved his mother could really be evil. The thought comforted him a bit, realizing that Draco would have never had the chance for redemption in Azkaban. Draco had a second chance, and Harry could only hope he wouldn’t use it for nefarious purposes.

Harry turned to the others waiting in the room. Remus had his arm draped around Susan’s shoulders; it was obvious they had reconciled. “Glad you’ve come to your senses, mate,” Harry said in a low voice as he shook Remus’s hand warmly. He grinned at the slight blush on their cheeks, and then he turned to Ginny.

He gently put his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes, knowing his expression betrayed his feelings. She looked at him in wonder as he slowly lowered his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. She choked out a small sob as she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “I love you, Ginny,” Harry whispered in her ear and pulled back slightly to kiss her again, this time more enthusiastically.

They finally pulled apart when someone loudly cleared their throat. They looked around at the four faces, three registering surprise and one grinning broadly. Remus spoke first. “Did I miss something? When did this happen?”

Hermione noticed Ron’s expression. “You knew!” she accused with an elbow to his ribs.

“Yeah,” Ron said with a small laugh. “This is great! Now everyone remember – for a short time, I actually knew something Hermione didn’t!”

“But … why didn’t Ginny … why didn’t Harry … nobody told me …” Hermione babbled.

Ron put his arm around her and led her away, murmuring, “I’ll explain it to you later, love.”

Harry watched them go then turned to Remus. “Sorry, mate. I guess we owe explanations to several people, don’t we?”

“That’s okay,” said Remus. “I think we owe a few, too.”

Ginny shook her head and groaned. “My mother’s going to be insufferable about this.”

***************************************

EPILOGUE

Narcissa Malfoy buried her husband and her sister on the same day. Lucius Malfoy was buried on the grounds of the Malfoy Estate, while Bellatrix Lestrange was buried in the Black Family Plot in London. There was no memorial service; anyone who would actually admit to being a friend of Lucius or Bellatrix was either dead or in hiding. Andromeda met them in London to pay her respects to her sister, but Draco and Narcissa stood alone by Lucius’s tomb. He was a little surprised that he actually felt sorry. Not remorse for taking his father’s life, but sorry that his father’s poor choices had led to this. He noted that his mother did not cry.

After the house-elves cleared dinner that evening, Draco gathered up the courage to tell his mother what he and his father had done during the past year and how Lucius had met his demise. But as he launched into his story, Narcissa stopped him with a gentle touch on his cheek. “I don’t want to know, love. It’s in the past. What’s important is that you’re home.” She stood, kissed his forehead, and left the dining room. Draco stared at her back for a moment, feeling a little bewildered, and then shrugged and went to his room.

He shut the door and charmed it locked. Then he flung himself into his favorite chair by the fireplace, thinking how much he had missed home. He idly pulled on the chain that lay hidden under his robes until the pendant rested in his hand.

It was a clear crystal, about the size of a Golden Snitch. It felt oddly heavy. Draco stared at it, turning it this way and that, watching the prismatic rainbows flicker within. It had been a simple matter to magically bypass the Muggle security at the Gilcrease Museum in Tulsa, locate the correct Remington sculpture, and charm the crystal out of the base. His father had never known.

He thought about the enhanced powers that had been revealed so far. He had discovered he could fight off the Memory Charm quite by accident. One day he had walked in on Lucius and Bellatrix in a compromising position. He had turned and immediately left the room, but thirty minutes later Lucius had come to his room to erase his memory of the event. Draco was actually a little sorry it hadn’t worked; he felt he could have done without that particular mental image.

He realized he had also been able to detect whatever mind-reading spell Potter’s group had been using on him. He couldn’t help wondering if the crystal could act as a defense against Legilimency. That alone could be a useful asset.

The crystal had already demonstrated its usefulness as a tool of defense. Now Draco found himself wondering if the crystal could benefit him in offensive strategies. He needed to do research and conduct tests. He smiled as he tucked the crystal back into his robes, rose from his chair, and walked out of his room in the direction of his father’s library. Correction, his library.

THE END


End file.
